


The Strange Last Days Of The Good Ship Exodar

by Flexor



Category: Warcraft, World of Warcraft
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-05
Updated: 2012-03-05
Packaged: 2017-11-01 11:24:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 46,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/356178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flexor/pseuds/Flexor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having made their escape from the Burning Legion on the world of Draenor, the Draenei find themselves a long way away from their destination: Azeroth. This is the story of one Draenei woman called Mareva, and her times on the year-long trip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Attrition

**Author's Note:**

> I am reposting this story to test AO3's multiple URL import facilities, and as such, it may contain horrible formatting and other errors. The latest work in progress is... progressing.

# THE STRANGE LAST DAYS OF THE GOOD SHIP EXODAR

## Part 1: Attrition.

* * *

Mareva filed in behind the rest of the crew, eyes firmly fixed on the back of the Prophet Velen as he wielded his large hammer, sending Sin'dorei guards flying, crashing into the walls. As a new mage, her job was basically to shoot anything that moved, until it stopped moving. The best that could be said about that, was that she rarely missed with her lightning bolts, ineffective though they were. They didn't look anything like the much more powerful fireballs that her fellow mages fired like they were going out of fashion.

"Keep up, Mareva!"

Mareva scowled at her fellow mage. "Going as fast as I can."

"And put a bit more effort in, will you?"

Mareva set her teeth, and sent another bolt of lightning at one of the Blood-elves barring their way into the Seat of the Naaru. That was where O'ros, Exodar's Controller, was held by the Sin'dorei. The guard shrugged off her pathetic effort, and the mage next to her finished him with a frost bolt.

"Got you!" He looked aside at Mareva. "When we get this thing space-born, I will recommend a few trainers to you. Stricter ones than the ones you've been seeing till now."

Mareva's face turned a darker shade of blue. She pressed on, looking again at Velen as he forced his way through the writhing mass of enemies, the Light shining from him, spattered with Sin'dorei blood. She launched another lightning bolt at one of the light-skinned freaks that tried to attack Velen from behind. It distracted the creature long enough for one of Velen's lieutenants to crush her skull with his mace. Good. Not entirely useless then. They'd given Mareva a one-handed mace, too, but it hung at her belt, unused. 

 

The fight continued, with the Draenei slowly making their way to the bottom of the great well, Seat of O'ros. Bodies were thrown off the walkway, sometimes screaming and writhing in mid-air as they plunged into the depths, until finally, the last resistance was crushed, and Prophet Velen faced the Naaru O'ros. With one stroke of his war hammer, he destroyed the cruel device the Sin'dorei had put on O'ros to keep him subdued.

Mareva shook, as she saw the Naaru unfold himself to his full stature. Though the Naaru were creatures of pure Light, and their reproductive processes were beyond the imagination of Draenei, it was customary to refer to a Naaru as "him". O'ros' heart, a shining orb of light, rose up, and his external blades lazily revolved round him, almost as though he were taking a deep breath of relief. There was a sound, much like the wind-chimes Mareva remembered from home, and words formed in her mind.

"Thank you, children, for freeing me."

Velen hefted his hammer on his shoulder. "You're welcome. Any way we can get this crate space-born?"

"That should be possible, but I need you to do something first. The transdimensional engines are disabled. They must be restored first."

The Prophet Velen nodded severely. He turned round to his band of fighters, looking for familiar faces. He put his hand to his mouth and shouted.

"Any trans-dimensional engineers here?"

Mareva stepped forward, raising her hand. "I am an engineer. How may I help?"

O'ros turned his attention to Mareva. Quicker than mere words could convey, information streamed from O'ros. Without a single spoken word, Mareva knew what the problem was. To keep O'ros from escaping with Exodar, they had disconnected the conduits that ran from the control points that O'ros used, to the engines. A simple matter of plugging them back in. The trouble was, the cables were heavy and bulky. She'd need some help. She turned round.

"Has anyone here ever worked with power conduits before?"

Three hands were raised. Two rather slender females, one male. Mareva pointed at the male.

"What is your name?"

"Viral. I am an armorsmith, though I have assisted engineers with their power lines before, so I know not to look into them."

"Perfect," said Mareva. Big, strong, just enough experience to keep him out of trouble, and not so much that he'd argue with her when she told him to do something. That he was also handsome was an added bonus.

"Follow me," said Mareva.

Prophet Velen put a hand on her shoulder. "Wait. We haven't got rid of all the Sin'dorei yet. Take a few men."

Mareva looked up into the frightening face of her Prophet. She shook her head. "If they show up in any numbers at all, even a dozen of your warriors cannot protect us. We cannot all go. Our hope is in speed. And in stealth. We will not fail."

Velen stood his war hammer on its head, and put both his hands on Mareva's shoulders. A rare smile was on his lips.

"Let nobody say that Mages have no courage. Favour the road travelled by few."

"Trust me," said Mareva. "I will. Viral? Let's move." 

 

Viral followed Mareva down a corridor, their hooves clunking on the metal floor. Mareva counted doors. O'ros had imprinted in her mind exactly where she needed to go. She stopped in front of a door, and listened carefully. Then, she looked at the number pad next to the door. She tapped in the code O'ros had told her. A small light turned red, and nothing happened. Mareva sneered. The Sin'dorei had changed the code. Never mind. From her belt, she took a small metal object. There was a brief motion like a metallic butterfly's wings and Mareva was holding a knife. She placed the point at the edge of the panel, and hit the butt end of the knife with her hand. She pried open the panel. From the tangle of wires, she selected two and cut them with her knife. She stripped off the insulation and turned to Viral.

"When the door opens, be ready to deal with anyone inside."

Viral drew a broad dagger. He nodded at Mareva. Mareva touched the wires together, and with a hiss of compressed air, the door opened. Mareva twisted the wires together to keep the door open and walked in. There was another corridor behind the door, empty, and they walked silently into it. Before long, they came upon the secondary control point. Mareva held her breath. One of the Sin'dorei was working on it. He would look at one of the modules in the rack, press a switch, then make notes in his notebook. Clearly documenting something about the system. Mareva looked round. Viral had also seen him. She pointed, shrugged. What? Viral drew his hand across his throat.

"I will lure him here," said Mareva. "You grab him."

Mareva slowly, quietly, walked out into the room. Then, she made a small noise. The Blood-elf looked round, saw her and ran for her. Mareva turned tail and ran, the Blood-elf after her. As she ran into the corridor, Viral was there, waiting. His massive arm shot out, catching the Blood-elf round the throat. He went down as if he'd walked into a brick wall. Viral slammed him down onto the deck, kneeled on him and stabbed him in the chest. The Blood-elf gave a hoarse cry. Viral laid his big hand on his mouth, pulled out his knife and stabbed again. The Blood-elf's eyes bulged. He made choking noises. Viral stabbed again, and again, until the Elf stopped moving. With a sudden jerk, as if he'd burnt himself, Viral drew away his hand. He took a few shivering breaths, and looked up at Mareva with an unhappy look on his face.

Mareva put her hand on his shoulder.

"You got him. Well done. Let's do what we came to do."

Viral got up on his big hooves. "It doesn't feel like well done," he said. "May his soul find the Light. He was just doing his job."

"I know," said Mareva. "The conduits." 

 

They walked into the room. Mareva's pale blue shining eyes quickly scanned the racks of equipment, checking readouts. All seemed to be alright, except that a few lights were blinking amber. She walked round to the back of the equipment rack, and immediately spotted the empty socket where O'ros' commands would be sent to the transdimensional engines. The cable was missing.

"Viral? We need the cable. Can you see it anywhere?"

Viral was already doing his rounds of the command station, opening cupboards.

"We'll need about ten yards of cable, no?"

"Correct. The three-inch power sockets."

Viral pointed. "That looks like it could be it."

A large power cable was coiled up on a spike on one of the walls. Mareva scowled. The ignorant Blood-elf zlotniks obviously had not bothered putting the dust caps on. It looked like their cable, though.

"Could you get it down for me? We need to uncoil it and connect it to O'ros' terminal over there." She pointed.

"Not a problem," said Viral.

"Mind you don't drop the ends on the floor," said Mareva. "Any dirt may interfere with operations."

"I have done this before, you know? You engineers are so fussy about your cables."

Mareva laughed. "That is because we know what we are doing. Come on. Let me see those impressive muscles in action."

Viral gave her a grin, and hefted the cable onto his shoulder. Straining under the weight, he carried it to the terminal. Mareva took the end between her hands, inserted it into the terminal and pushed the lever that would force the connections into place. It fit with a smooth click. As Mareva kept the other connector from falling onto the floor, Viral slowly uncoiled the cable, and Mareva could fit it into the socket that connected internally to O'ros' command point. She had to jiggle the connection a bit, before it would slot into place. She shook her head, pulled it out again. Being careful not to aim the cable directly into her eyes, she checked for any bent connections. With her knife, she carefully bent one of the small tubes straight, and tried again. This time, the connector slid in with that satisfying motion that all engineers throughout the Universe recognise by feel. As soon as she slid the lever home, the entire cable lit up. Red, green, blue, yellow, cyan, purple. Then, colours started alternating faster than the eye could follow, till they blended into a yellowish white. Mareva walked over to the equipment rack, pressed a few switches and observed the readout.

"O'ros is not wasting any time," said Mareva. "It seems we're done here. Let's get back to the Seat."

Viral nodded. "And quickly. Before they notice what's going on." 

 

They were spotted by Blood-elves not two hundred yards from the Seat of the Naaru. Angry bolts of fire whizzed past them as they ran. Mareva set her teeth. Damn it. So close! They'd never make it with all these cursed Sin'dorei shooting at them. At the top of the spiralling walkway that led down to O'ros, a silent robed figure stood. He had his hands in his sleeves in front of him, and a hood covered his face. As they approached, he raised his hands and Mareva could feel the flow of magic. And yet, it did not feel like the magic of the Paladins or Mages. As she watched, four differently-coloured cylinders appeared at the wizard's feet, and immediately, Mareva felt the crackle of magic on her skin. Side by side with Viral, she ran.

And then, her luck ran out. She could feel the heat, and as she unwisely looked over her shoulder, a fireball, monstrously large to her eyes, hit her square in the back. Mareva cried out in fear, but to her surprise, no pain came, and she could keep running. In front of her, she could see that one of the cylinders, air, she knew, though how she knew it, she didn't know, had disappeared. Before she had time to rejoice, another fireball hit her. This one did hurt, but nowhere near as much as she'd have expected. Fighting to get more air into her lungs, she ran in the direction of the wizard.

"Get you behind me," said the wizard. Even though his husky voice was not strong, Mareva could hear his words perfectly. She didn't need telling twice. She turned round, facing their enemies. The wizard didn't seem worried, even though the mage-fire was now concentrated on him.

"So you want to play with fire, my children? Can I play too?"

His hands shot forward, and from his palms, a bolt of lightning shot forward. It struck the first of the mages, who went down without a sound. But then... Mareva's eyes opened wide. It continued on to the next. It had clearly lost some of its potency, but the fire-mage clutched his chest, and fell behind, an expression of agony on his face. On went the bolt, finally spending itself right in the face of a third mage, who clasped her hands to her eyes and screamed. The other mages kept running, and spread out in a ten-yard half-circle round the wizard, who seemed to take no notice at all. He suddenly raised both his hands, and the red cylinder at his feet blazed with a fierce light.

The effect was immediate. All the mages burst into flame, screaming, rolling round on the floor, trying to beat out the flames with their bare hands. It was no use. Whenever they'd managed to quell the flames, more sprang up. Within ten seconds, all were down. The wizard turned to Mareva.

"I saw you coming. I thought you might need the assistance. Velen and O'ros are grateful for your efforts."

"As am I for yours," said Mareva.

Viral heard a soft noise at his hooves, coming from one of the mages. He knelt by the body, turned it over. It was the mage who'd got the wizard's lightning in her face, and she was clearly breathing her last. Her green eyes were singed into a milky white. What was left of her hair was still smouldering, with a horrible smell. Her robes were burnt, showing patches of bare skin, burnt red and blistered. Her chest still rose and fell, quickly, desperately. Little sounds of pain came from her. Moving quick as water, Viral drew his dagger and plunged it up to the hilt into the mage's chest. The body sagged, finally still. He briefly closed his eyes, then looked up at Mareva.

"This feels more like well done," he said.

The wizard chuckled, but Mareva was silent. She knelt next to Viral, looked into his eyes.

"Thank you for your help. I could not have completed my task without you."

"We are not safe here," said the wizard. "Let's go down. I promised Velen to keep you from harm. I show you to him, then I am done, yes?" 

 

Velen looked over his shoulder, and his eyes fell on Mareva and Viral. He raised his fingers to his forehead.

"Well done, people. O'ros is just about to engage the transdimensional drive. Let's get off this planet!"

O'ros impinged himself on their presence.

"I am afraid that the Sin'dorei have modified the configuration of my controls. Until I ascertain what modifications they have made, I cannot operate the transdimensional drive with any precision at all."

"Can you put us somewhere in space?"

The blades of light slowly revolved round O'ros.

"Yes. The transition, however, will not be as precise as usual. Please brace yourselves. Engaging." 

 

Mareva had made many jumps through the Twisting Nether, even on this very vessel. At most, you felt a sudden drop, as of an elevator when it plunges down. A pencil might roll off a table if the distance was particularly large.

This jump was not like those jumps.

Mareva suddenly found her hooves a half-yard above the floor of the Seat of the Naaru, and fell down, as people round her did the same. It was presumably a great honour to have Prophet Velen's hoof land on your shin, but that didn't keep it from hurting. Confused Draenei picked themselves up carefully, and struggled to their hooves.

"O'ros," shouted Velen.

"Yes?"

"Are we still in one piece?"

O'ros considered a moment.

"Exodar is still structurally sound. Some of the emergency doors have not responded to the signals and are still open. No leakage of air into the Twisting Nether. We seem to be travelling at a speed of approximately twenty-three parsecs per second, normal space equivalent. I am searching for a sufficiently empty space to re-materialise. Please wait."

Mareva shook her head, and found she was lying on something soft, which turned out to be Viral's stomach. She looked up to him.

"I'm sorry," said Mareva. "I don't normally do this on a first date."

"I'll bet you say that to all the boys you take through the Twisting Nether," said Viral, and grinned.

"So far, all of them," said Mareva. 

 

The transition from the Twisting Nether into what O'ros called Normal Space went much more smoothly than the initial jump. O'ros turned on an external monitor, and they could see what the stars looked like outside. Mareva could not recognise any of the constellations. They were far, far away from home. Velen turned to the Naaru.

"O'ros? How much time to get to Azeroth from here? I think we'll save the transdimensional jumps for later."

"Travel time through normal space, using mass reaction engines, approximately twenty-seven thousand, nine hundred and forty-five years, seventy-five days, nine hours."

"Approximately?" Velen gave a short bark of a laugh.

"Yes."

Mareva heard Viral take a sharp breath, and smiled at him.

"Don't worry. We will get the TD engines up and running before then."

Velen coughed. "What about using the TD engines?"

"Inadvisable, without first re-calibrating."

"Assuming they are calibrated."

"Given the trans-dimensional engines are correctly calibrated, we can reach Azeroth System in two jumps, reducing the normal-space travel to three-hundred and sixty-five days, ten hours."

Mareva's jaw dropped. "Alright. Now you may start worrying. It seems we will be stuck in this crate for a year."

Velen sneered. "Well, at least now we're sure that there's a finite number of enemies on board. Let's go find them and kill them before they murder us in our beds. Then, we fix the engines. Then, we set sail for Azeroth."

Mareva looked at her hooves.

"Ask for directions, I said, but would he listen? No, it's trans-dimensional, he said. What can go wrong?" 

* * *

The fighting lasted for days. The Blood-elves realised they were cut off from their support lines, divided up into small packs, and went to ground. From a myriad of bolt-holes, they launched surprise attacks at the Draenei and disappeared into thin air after their strikes. Draenei Hunter-killer parties roamed all the walkways and corridors of Exodar, looking for trouble. The attacks from the Blood-elves slowly became less and less frequent, until at last days and weeks had gone by without a single sighting of hornless pointy-eared heads.

All of this passed Mareva by. She was busy. As it turned out, of the surviving engineers, she was one of the highest-ranking. This meant that the re-calibration and reconfiguration of the trans-dimensional engines fell largely to her and three of her fellow engineers. It was work that normally, Mareva would not have been expected to do on her own, but neeeds must. She worked till the readouts, lights and cables spun in front of her face, then returned to her small cabin and slept like a log, to wake up and start again. She and her fellow engineers were painfully aware that this increased the possibility of error, so they always, always had someone else check their work for them. Better to start the TD engines a week late, than to start them a week early and end up splattered all over the Twisting Nether.

For their sins, they had been given one of Velen's lieutenants as their overseer. Lieutenant Giraz was an excellent soldier, strong, courageous, an inspiration to his peers, ready to lay down his life for Velen and his fellow Draenei. Putting him in charge of a bunch of over-worked engineers, the work of whom he hadn't a hope of ever understanding, was... distinctly sub-optimal. Mareva and her band of brothers ignored his commands as quietly as they could. Sometimes, however... 

 

"Engineer Mareva! What do you think you are doing?"

Mareva ignored him. Her long slender finger ran past the numbers on her data pad, comparing them to those on the machine. They had long since stopped wondering what had possessed the Blood-elves to re-set every operational parameter that existed in Exodar's transdimensional engines. All they cared about was returning them to their original values so O'ros could take this defective elekk-turd of a ship someplace inhabitable.

"Engineer Mareva!"

She blinked, sneered. The ignorant zlotnik had just made her lose her place in the list, and she'd have to start all over again. She looked over her shoulder, an angry scowl on her face.

"What?"

"Engineer Mareva, I asked you a question. What are you doing. I will overlook your insolence for now."

"I am verifying the work of Engineer Alard, _Sir_. Or at least I was, until someone disturbed me."

"Why are you doing that? Surely, you do not doubt Engineer Alard?"

Mareva briefly closed her eyes. How did you explain to someone whose most complex tool was a warhammer, that you _couldn't_ check your own work, because you naturally assumed that you had done it right?

"Engineer Alard asked me to, Sir. It is imperative that all operational parameters are at the values provided by O'ros. They cannot be off by the merest fraction or there may be a catastrophic failure. All of our component atoms might be mixed up and scattered throughout the Universe. I do not wish my atoms to be mixed with yours."

"Engineer Mareva, when a soldier is caught asleep on guard, the punishment is a week in the brig, followed by two months heavy duty. Are you trying to catch Engineer Alard?"

Mareva slowly got to her feet, and turned to Giraz. She held up her data pad in front of his face.

"Lieutenant Giraz, these are the correct operational parameters for transdimensional travel on this sub-system. If they are off by even one, the punishment is instant death for everybody on board this ship. Engineer Alard is the best of us, and the only one who knows every system on this crate. So when he tells me to verify his work, I do so, for my own survival. As you can see, there are two thousand numbers in this data set alone. Engineer Alard asked me if every number in the machine is the same as these on my pad. I must concentrate in order to avoid mistakes."

Mareva took a deep breath, anger flaring on her face.

"May I continue?"

"I will verify this with Engineer Alard, and if I find you have been telling tales, I will personally chuck your scrawny tail in the brig for a fortnight."

"Oh _please_ , Lieutenant, chuck me in the brig. I have had eight hours sleep of the last seventy-two. Fourteen whole days of sleep would be bliss."

Lieutenant Giraz grunted, turned on his hooves and left the room. Mareva pinched the bridge of her nose, re-set the sequence on the machine and started comparing the numbers. After three lines she found she was on the wrong sheet. She had just approved three lines that were nothing like the ones on her pad. She shook her head. Who of them had had the most sleep? Probably Grofal. He'd earnt it with a heroic stint of forty-eight hours and they had carried him to his bunk. Well, time to wake him up. 

* * *

Mareva walked in a haze from the Seat to her quarters. Pull open a pack of food, and then six hours of blissful oblivion. She amazed herself, really she did. If anyone had told her a month ago that she would keep going on three or four hours sleep per day, for... how long? Never mind. Hurts to think about.

A hand was on her shoulder. She didn't even look up.

"If your question starts with 'how long will', then you will die."

"How long will it take you to come to my cabin, take your clothes off and get into my bed?"

A smile slowly appeared on Mareva's face.

"Viral." She thought of saying something suitably lewd, but couldn't think of anything. So she left it at that. 

 

Viral put his big arm round her, and gently led her to his cabin. Her shoulders were sagging, her eyes were on the ground in front of her feet. She didn't speak. Viral looked at her, worried. He hadn't seen her since they had re-connected O'ros' power lines, except now and then as she went from one place to another. She'd looked busy then. She looked completely wasted now. He smiled to himself. He could probably give her one of his special shoulder treatments. Clearly, she was in no shape now to respond in the appropriate way, but it never hurts to build up a little credit. He typed in the code on the keypad and the door slid open. Mareva walked in. She frowned.

"There's no bed," she said. "False pretenses."

Viral laughed. He touched a blue rectangle on the wall, and a bed slid out. Mareva smiled.

"Good."

She dropped her toolbox on the floor, undid the top few buttons on her blouse, then pulled it over her head. Then, she undid her belt and dropped her trousers. Viral breathed in slowly. She really had gorgeous thighs. He quickly looked away before Mareva could catch him staring at her. She didn't seem to have noticed. She pulled up the covers, and fell down onto the bed. The memory foam moulded itself round her body, and she gave a moan of pure pleasure.

"Oh I want one of these."

Viral smiled. "Use mine for now."

He walked into a corner and put the kettle on.

"I'll make you some tea. I was lucky enough to find some honey. Actual honey, from Terokkar forest. It tastes so much better than sweetener. The bees will only go for the purple flowers."

The water came to the boil, and Viral poured boiling water onto the instant tea powder. He carefully added a spoonful of his honey. He had a fair number of pots left, but they would have to last him a year. He glanced over his shoulder. This would be worth every drop, though. He stirred the tea with a metallic sound, then turned round to Mareva.

She was lying on her side, one arm over the edge of the bed, fast, fast asleep. Viral took a deep breath. He put down the tea on his small table. Then, he kneeled by Mareva and gently laid her arm back beside her face. He pulled the cover over her. Then, he stood up and picked up the mug. He leaned back against the wall, drinking Mareva's tea, looking at her. She was really very beautiful. Or was she? He might be looking at her through rose-tinted goggles. The attraction of shared adventure. Running for your life together is known to skew your observations. He tried to observe her face objectively. No. There was no denying it. She really was gorgeous. He shook his head, sat down at his table, pulled out his armoursmith's tools, and started turning steel wire into rings for chainmail. 

 

Mareva opened her eyes, feeling better than she had in a long time. She blinked. Oh damn. How long had she been sleeping? She looked round. This wasn't her room! What the...

"Good morning," said Viral. He was sitting in his chair, at his table, his pliers in his hand, a half-finished piece of chainmail on the table.

"What is the time? How long have I been asleep?"

Viral looked at his work, then back at Mareva.

"Eight hours or so. You look like you needed the sleep."

"Damn." Mareva jumped up, looking for her clothes. She pulled on her trousers and her shirt, and looked at Viral. "I should have been at work two hours ago. There's poor bastards out there who need the sleep more than I do."

Viral poured coffee into a mug and pressed it into Mareva's hands. Then, he pulled out an Emarree, and pulled the tab. It heated up instantly. Mareva drunk her coffee, making a small frustrated noise as she burnt her tongue. She put the mug down, half empty.

"I have to go."

Viral grabbed her arm and pushed her into his chair. He put the food in front of her.

"Sit. Eat. Ten more minutes won't make any difference, and you need it."

Mareva tried to get up, but she could not argue with three hundred pounds of Draenei male. She sat down, and started spooning hot gunk into her mouth. She raised her eyebrows.

"Hey! Do Emarree come in sweet, too?"

Viral grinned. "Savour the experience. If all you've had is the salty, then you have now experienced the whole range that Emarree have to offer."

Mareva scraped the last of the goo out of the bag.

"We have Emarree. We will not starve."

She got up, and picked up her toolbox. Then, she turned round to Viral and wrapped her arms round him.

"Thank you for inviting me to your bed. When we finish this job, I will invite you to mine."

"Can hardly wait," said Viral. 

 

"Where have you been?" Alard scowled at her. "We tried your place, but you weren't there."

"Overslept," said Mareva. "Got abducted by someone who didn't set an alarm."

"Hm. Take over from Inuuri. She's dead on her hooves. Sub-station twenty."

"Right." Mareva ran off. 

 

She found Inuuri kneeled in front of one of the machines, data pad in her hand, simply staring at it, not moving. Mareva put her hand on her shoulder, and she looked round, startled. She scowled.

"Where have you been, you bitch? Getting some extra sleep?"

Mareva pulled the exhausted woman to her hooves, and laid her hand on her cheek.

"I'm sorry. Go to bed. Shouting at me eats into your time."

Inuuri blinked, slowly. Seeing the wisdom in this, she nodded.

"Start at twelve. I did up to sixteen, but..."

"Go. I'll get it."

Inuuri stared, turned round, left. Mareva picked up the pad, re-set the terminal, and spotted three mistakes almost immediately. Damn. If they were this error prone... Oh well. They'd never know. She set her teeth and continued. 

 

They were standing in the Seat of the Naaru, facing O'ros. Inuuri was leaning on Mareva. Lieutenant Giraz stood in front of them, arms crossed. Finally, O'ros spoke.

"Cyclic redundancy checks are complete. No errors found. You have achieved full accuracy."

O'ros didn't have a real voice. So it couldn't sound as if he were smiling. Still, it did.

"Well done."

Alard raised his massive arm. Mareva slapped his hand. Grofal stood still, chuckling to himself. Inuuri closed her eyes and put her head on Mareva's shoulder. Lieutenant Giraz gave her one look, and picked her up as though she were a child.

"What's her cabin number?"

"Two-five-one-three," said Alard.

Grofal stared at Giraz' broad back as he lumbered off with their fellow engineer in his arms.

"He's not a bad guy," he said. "As long as he keeps his big trap shut."

Alard laughed. "Now what, O'ros?"

"I have started re-calibrating the trans-dimensional drives. This will take approximately three days, twenty hours. After that, I will need your assistance for a short test jump."

Alard gave a short nod.

"Wake us up one hour before that." 

* * *

Mareva spent the next eight hours asleep in her cabin. Then, she turned over and slept another eight. Finally, she got up, dressed in a robe, walked to one of the communal bath rooms and soaked in warm water for an hour. The fact that she and her fellow Draenei would be drinking this same water later had long since stopped bothering her. It got boiled and distilled before being returned to one of the water tanks. Water hardly remembers what has been dissolved in it. She came out of the bath room feeling much better. A message from Giraz was waiting for her when she got back. Report to the Vault of Lights.

"On pain of death," murmured Mareva. 

 

Prophet Velen looked at Giraz and the engineers.

"O'ros informs me that you have all performed well. Without your efforts, Exodar would never again have been able to travel through the Twisting Nether. On behalf of all those on board Exodar, I thank you for your efforts. Now keeping in mind our limitations, I would like to reward you. Is there anything we can do for you? I warn you that food is not an option. We have only Emarree."

Mareva blushed a deep blue. Never before had anyone praised her like this. She got on with her jobs. Checked in. Checked out. Got paid. Nothing was ever said about it, unless she made mistakes. She bit her lip. And what could she want? Now that the ruler of all Exodar asked her her greatest desire, what was it? Suddenly, she smiled. In these last few weeks, there had been one moment of unmitigated bliss. One moment only.

"If I might ask. My cabin is very small. I noticed that in corridor twenty-one, there are cabins with extensible memory-foam beds."

Velen smiled at her, saying nothing.

"Could I move into one of those?"

Velen laughed. "No gold or jewels, but comfort for weary bones. I commend you on your sense of priority. Of course you can. I will have one assigned to you immediately."

Inuuri grinned. "So that's where you were. I hope you enjoyed him."

Mareva gave Inuuri a look, noting that she was standing rather close to Lieutenant Giraz.

"I fell asleep," said Mareva. "Ask him." 

 

Humming a little tune, Mareva walked up the corridor, a note in her hand with her new cabin number. All that she possessed, she carried in a backpack on one shoulder. Counting the doors, she didn't look where she was going, and bumped into...

"Viral? What are you doing here?"

"I live here, remember?" His fist hit the door. "At least, I think I do. The damned door will not open."

"Are you sure the code is correct?"

"Of course I do. Typed it in hundreds of times. Set it myself."

Mareva looked at her note, then up at the door. She tapped in four numbers on the pad. It opened. Viral stared at the open door, then back at Mareva.

"How did you do that?"

Mareva showed him the note. "This cabin was assigned to me. I quite liked your bed, last time I was in it. So I thought I'd ask for a similar one."

The door gave a hiss, and started to close. Mareva stuck out an arm, and it opened again. Viral gaped.

"So... you _turfed me out?_ "

Mareva gave him a look, and walked into the cabin, followed by Viral. She dropped her pack onto the floor. She raised an eyebrow at Viral.

"How did you get this cabin?"

"Um," said Viral.

Mareva smiled sweetly.

"Well, I walked up to it, typed four zeroes, and it opened. So I changed it, and moved in."

"You didn't have it registered to you?"

Viral gave Mareva an earnest look.

"Our leaders are very busy people. I do not like to bother them with such trivialities."

"Well then. This cabin was still listed as 'empty', so they gave it to me." Mareva grinned wickedly. "I fully intended to invite you to my bed some time. I did not realise it would be the same bed."

Viral looked at Mareva. Then, he started to grin, then to laugh.

"Now," said Mareva, sitting down at the table and pulling out the fold-away terminal. "What you might have done is ask someone who has root access to the main computer, to abuse her privileges and assign you a cabin."

Viral nodded. "Do you know such a person?"

"No," said Mareva. "None of my fellow engineers would do such a thing. It is a terrible betrayal of the trust placed in us by Prophet Velen." She smiled, typed at the terminal. "I might, though. For the appropriate compensation."

"What? For my own cabin back? Honestly."

"No. I'm keeping this one. Get out. Yours is across the corridor. Don't look at me like that. It has its own shower. I will be wanting to use it."

"Um," said Viral.

"I will help you carry your things," said Mareva. 

* * *

Copyright: © 2008,2009,2010 Menno Willemse. All rights reserved.


	2. Part 2: Belonging

# THE STRANGE LAST DAYS OF THE GOOD SHIP EXODAR

## Part 2: Belonging

* * *

Mareva looked at the pieces on the board, then at her opponent, an older man. His hands were on the table in front of him, his fingers steepled. His face was plied in a friendly smile that somehow managed to convey to her that she was doomed no matter what she did. The last three matches, she had to admit, she had won by diversionary tactics. When she had dressed in the morning, she somehow found that all her bras were in the wash, together with all the blouses she had that weren't slightly too tight. It didn't seem likely to work on this opponent, though. He had politely introduced himself as Gazpaar and proceeded to wipe the floor with her.

She made a move, and breathed in.

Her opponent smiled. "May I compliment you on your blouse? It really shows off your charms to their best advantage. The effect is quite breathtaking."

He made a move. Mareva frowned. Damn. Her eyes glinted.

"If you let me capture that knight, I may undo another button," she said.

"Let you, my dear?" Gazpaar smiled. "I am powerless to prevent it."

Mareva gave a little laugh, moved a pawn, picked up the knight and put it next to the board. Being a fair play kind of girl, she dutifully undid another button. Gazpaar moved his bishop through the space until recently taken up by Mareva's pawn and captured one of hers, threatening both her queen and her elekk.

"I believe that goes against the spirit of the agreement," said Mareva, with a slight frown.

Gazpaar smiled at her. "You may be right. If you were to close that button again, I would not hold it against you."

Mareva moved her queen next to her elekk. Gazpaar captured the elekk. Mareva captured the bishop.

"My tactics are useless against you," she said.

"Flattery will get you nothing," said Gazpaar, smiling. He moved one of his elekks one square to the left.

Mareva looked at the elekk as if it were making rude gestures at her. She hadn't a clue what Gazpaar intended to do with it. Maybe he was just moving it out of the way for something else. She looked at Gazpaar's other pieces.

"They did work fine against the others," she said.

"Were they younger and hopeful?"

"Perhaps. I feel slightly guilty about using my, um, allure to distract them. I should be able to win without resorting to such tactics."

"If they allow themselves to be distracted, then they have only themselves to blame. Personally, all I have to do is think of my wife and all other women are irrelevant. Your move."

Mareva moved her queen back behind a row of pawns.

"Is she on board?"

"Luckily, yes. We were fortunate. In fact..." Gazpaar thought a moment. "Yes. We have been married for twenty years, tomorrow. Thank you for reminding me. I think I'll give you a knight for that."

He picked up his other knight, and put it next to Mareva's captured pieces. He moved his elekk forward.

"Check."

Mareva moved her king.

"Are you getting her a present?"

Gazpaar nodded. "I suppose I am. I'm at a loss what, though."

"Jewellery usually works," said Mareva. "What's she like?"

Gazpaar leaned back in his chair. "She's one of the vindicators."

"What colour is her hair?"

"Brown. Light brown."

"Horns?"

"Transverse, straight."

"What skin colour?"

"Perhaps a touch darker than yours."

"Get her something in silver, with amber stones. I could make you one, but you really need it today, and things like that take time to make. It's what makes them valuable."

"I see. Do you know where I could get something like that? Trader's tier, I suppose?"

"No. Crystal Hall. See Farii. She is a jewelcrafting teacher. Perhaps you could persuade her to part with one of her samples. They are very good."

"That is an excellent idea. I should probably get going, then."

"I agree. As soon as we finish this game."

Gazpaar moved his elekk.

"Check."

Mareva looked at the board, sighed, and held out her hand to Gazpaar. He shook it.

"Thank you for the game, and the advice." 

 

"Close your eyes, dear."

Gazpaar's wife did, and he put the necklace round her neck.

"Look."

She sighed. "It's beautiful! Thank you!"

"Happy anniversary."

She held up the necklace, and looked at the intricate work.

"I like this."

"One of my opponents gave me some advice. A delightful girl." He smirked. "She tried to distract me by means of her cleavage."

"Oh? Did she win?"

Gazpaar laughed.

"She could have played in the nude, sitting on my lap, and still I would have beaten her."

"Oh. Not smart enough, was she?"

Gazpaar shook his head. "She is quite intelligent, but she tried to analyze every move I could possibly make. Which is futile."

"Well, I remember. I caught you much in the same way."

"I still won the game."

"Yes. And I lost my forfeit." She put her arms round him. "Woe is me." 

* * *

"You were wearing _that?_ "

"Yes. It is my lucky blouse. Still, I don't think the chess club is for me. I won a few matches, but only because they were not looking at the board. I can hardly seduce all the players into letting me win."

"It would not improve your chess play, this is true. How about the musicians? I think you have a lovely voice."

"That is because your mind is addled. Have you ever heard me sing?"

"No."

"Good."

Viral's eyes turned back to the page. "Mathematicians? You're clever enough for that."

"Solving quadratic equations for _fun_? Are you mad?"

"Only when I gaze upon your beauty, my dear."

"Well, naturally."

Mareva looked down the list of social clubs. Many of them had sprung up once it became clear to people exactly how long they would be staying on board Exodar. She pointed at one of the entries.

"The Zealots of Exodar? What's that?"

Viral called up the appropriate page.

"You are a heathen," he read. "Be saved and follow the only true Path. Our great god Hut welcomes you with open arms. Advance to High Priest and learn to interprete Hut's utterances into commandments for everyday life. Punish the unworthy!"

"That sounds like... fun," said Mareva.

"Oh, I met a few of them. They're mad. One of them will listen to the utterances of Hut, that is the crackle of intergalactic background radiation, and make up a rule for all the others to follow. Like, only wear blue on the second day. Then they try to catch each other breaking the commandments. Currently, their High Priest is Aqaar. I believe he will not be moved from that position without the use of high explosives."

"Hmm. Next," said Mareva. She blinked, pointed at one of the entries. "Am I reading this correctly?"

Viral looked. "The Deviants? The pursuit of ultimate sexual pleasure?" He grinned. "Oh my..."

"But," said Mareva, a look of complete innocence in her eyes, "You already have me. What more could you want? Could anyone want?"

"Shall we find out?"

"Can we afford not to?" 

* * *

"Again!"

The target dummy swam in front of Mareva's eyes. She was all out of mana, and frankly, the thought of having another one of those horrible potions made her stomach turn. She took a deep breath. Concentrated. Just one more.

"Come on! You've already got dispensation to use those dumb lights you insist are all you can do. So do them."

"I am out of mana," said Mareva.

"What, again?" the trainer, named Harnan, swished his tail in annoyance. "Well, have another potion, then."

"I do not have any more, trainer Harnan," said Mareva.

The trainer took a deep breath, and slowly let it escape.

"Well, then get some more, come back later and keep practicing. I want to see at least twice the amount of damage you are doing now, or you may as well put on a tin can and let the Horde hack away at you."

"Yes, Trainer Harnan," said Mareva. She scowled at her feet as the rest of the mage class filed out towards the inn. She heaved a deep sigh and went in seach of more mana potions. 

 

Mareva tapped in Viral's code, and walked into his room, grumbling. She dropped the box of potions on the floor, took off her clothes and walked into his shower. She turned up the heat as far as it would go. Scorching hot needles of water flowed over her head. She closed her eyes.

"Well, good evening. Had a good training then?"

Mareva looked over her shoulder at Viral. She turned her face back towards the water jet.

"No."

"They give you a hard time about it?"

"Yes. I have to go back to the training dummies later."

Viral reached over, turned off the shower, then pulled Mareva to him. His hand stroked her wet hair.

"You are getting wet," said Mareva, without making a move to get out of his arms.

"Sometimes, a hug is more important than dry clothes," said Viral, earnestly.

Mareva closed her eyes and laid her horned head on Viral's shoulder.

"Thank you."

"Hey, we have this Deviants meeting this evening."

Mareva looked up. "Oh, yes. I remember. Damn."

"Well, they'll hardly expect us to start at once."

"Shame," said Mareva. 

* * *

The Deviants and Deviant Aspirants met in a softly-lit, smallish hall in the Traders' Tier. The Deviant chairman looked at his watch, signalled one of his friends to close the door and called for silence.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to the first meeting of the Deviants of Exodar. My name is Wildoor, the chairman of this illustrious company. At this moment, our club numbers seventy-one members, and we welcome all comers." He closed his eyes a moment. "Right. That was a bad one. I apologise."

Viral pulled Mareva a bit closer. "This should be good."

Wildoor took a while to explain all the rules of the club, scoring, safe-words to use for the more... exotic pleasures, club equipment used to be returned _clean_ , basic hygiene, and repeated several times the importance of not going where you're not welcome.

"It is our most important rule. All the others are insignificant in comparison. Consent! The official phrase to use is: 'Yes, I consent to do this', if it is not clear. We have no official phrase to _deny_ consent. No matter how your partner phrases it, 'No', 'Stop', 'Please don't', 'Wait', you will stop what you are doing. We pursue the ultimate in pleasure. Being forced into unwanted acts is not pleasure. I apologise if this sounds stupid and obvious, but I _must_ emphasise it. Break this one rule, and you will be reported to the Peacekeepers. Right. Any questions?"

One of the girls raised her hand.

"Is membership anonymous? Um, my friend would not want her boyfriend to find out she'd joined."

Wildoor turned his eyes down for a moment, suppressing the obvious answer. He looked up.

"We do not announce it on the public address system when someone joins, but anyone can walk into the club house and check the membership list. It is also on our club page." Wildoor sighed. "Look around you. If you join, you will end up sharing the bed of a good portion of the people you can see. Do you expect all of them never to mention in passing how much they enjoyed your attention? If you join without telling your boyfriend, then in very short order, you will have no boyfriend."

Another hand went up. "Can we earn points for people not in the Deviants?"

Wildoor looked at his notes, raised his eyebrows. "I thought I'd mentioned that, thank you for reminding me. The answer is yes! Not only can you earn points for them, but if you sample someone outside the Deviants, you automatically get full marks. Keep in mind, they _must_ make an entry into your little black book, or you get no points. If I know my style committee, if you then get them to join, they will be generous with style points."

"Can we join as a couple?"

"Not really, no. There is nothing to keep you from both joining, but we do not register that you are connected. If you only wish to sample others with your partner present, which you are perfectly free to do, then I suggest you make it clear very early in the negotiations."

There were a few more questions, but Mareva didn't pay much attention to them. She wriggled in Viral's arms.

"So. Do we join?"

Viral looked into Mareva's eyes. "I would like to. It sounds interesting." He sighed. "We never did say that we would have no others, did we?"

"No. But I don't mind. It is like a sports club. Also, we would learn a lot of new things. We could practice them on each other. We would be unbeatable." She smiled. "When we were running away from the Sin'dorei, I noticed you stayed behind me most of the time. Even before we really knew each other. Also, you let me sleep in your bed, and gave me food and coffee when I woke up. I do enjoy making love to you, but that is simply fun and games, compared to having your arm round me when the day is rotten and I want to kill everybody, starting with myself. Let's join." 

 

Mareva found herself walking back to her cabin together with the Captain's personal assistant, Lorelei, who was quartered a few corridors away. Viral had been dragged off to one of the inaugural samplings and had indicated that he might be late. Mareva still had target practice to do. She looked at Lorelei, a young, fresh-faced girl who you'd never expect at a meeting like this.

"So. Did you join?"

Lorelei sighed. "Well, I got the form, but there's so many people there. And most of them are boys. I really prefer..." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Girls."

Mareva nodded, riffling the pages on her brand-new, empty, Little Black Book. "I can understand. Getting to meet so many people naked can be intimidating. And who knows what they want to do with you?"

"Well, at least you can stop whenever you want. They're really sharp on that. I went mostly because I broke up with my girlfriend a month or so ago. Probably for the best." She sighed. "The times when you both take your clothes off shouldn't be the best times. I do miss it, though. If there weren't so many people..."

They walked on. A thought struck Mareva. She glanced at Lorelei's pretty face, just as she glanced at Mareva.

"I wouldn't mind," said Lorelei. 

* * *

Mareva was lying on her stomach, head on her arms. Well, she hadn't exactly counted on getting her first three points less than an hour after joining, but it would show Viral. She reached over and stroked Lorelei's hair.

"Thank you," said Mareva. She rolled over, sat up. "It's almost a shame that you haven't joined. I would have given you three points for that."

Lorelei giggled.

"Want me to sign your book?"

"Yes please."

"And would you sign mine?"

Mareva blinked.

"What?"

Lorelei reached into a drawer, and pulled out a book not unlike Mareva's. The main difference was that in her case, the first pages were full.

"I thought you said you hadn't joined!"

Lorelei laughed.

"Yes. Many people thought I said that. But I didn't. Think back."

Mareva looked at her accusingly.

"Oh come on. You're still getting three points. You were great! That thing you did, when you grabbed my tail right at the top, and squeezed. You'll want to do that again. And again. I will."

Mareva shook her head, wrote her number in Lorelei's book and got her own back. Behind the number three, Lorelei had written, "Lovely, thanks." Mareva had wanted to write something about deceitful women behind her own entry, but looking at Lorelei, she couldn't.

"How many times do you think you can get away with that?"

"Depends. You won't spoil my game, will you?" 

 

Mareva closed the door behind her, dropped her clothes and put on a robe. The red "do not disturb" sign was up on Viral's door, so it would be... inappropriate to use his shower. She walked to the communal bathroom at the end of the corridor. Just before the door closed behind her, she heard a sweet, sad voice.

"There's just so many of them, and most of them are girls. I really prefer..."

Mareva smiled, then grinned, then burst out laughing. She'd have to get moving if she wanted to stand any chance at all of winning. 

* * *

Mareva frowned in concentration as she tried to squeeze more lightning bolts out of her hands. One of them misfired.

"Ow!"

She sucked a finger. Out of bloody mana again. At least, she'd been able to get her hands on some moonberry juice. It tasted better than the blue mana potions that were mainly used in battle. She reached for another bottle, and drank slowly. She felt her mana pool fill up again, slowly. She put the empty bottle back in the bag and tried again.

"Is going well, no?"

Mareva looked round, and saw someone standing behind her, hands in his sleeves in front of his stomach, a hood covering his face. With a start, she recognised the wizard who'd saved her and Viral from the pursuing Blood-elf mages.

"Not very, Sir."

"How long have you been practicing this?"

"Two hours, today," said Mareva.

"And still no better?"

Mareva scowled. "No."

"Why you training with those zlotniks anyway?"

"Well, they're better mages than I am."

"That is true. And there is a good reason for that."

"Oh? What am I doing wrong?"

"Nothing. You are not a mage."

Mareva stared at the wizard, but found nothing to say.

"This Harnan, he teach you many spells?"

"He said he couldn't make them stick, which is why I'm stuck with the ones I knew already."

The wizard's shoulders rose and fell, and there was a hoarse kind of sound coming from under his hood.

Mareva blushed, and scowled at the wizard. "There is no need to laugh at me. I'm doing the best I can with what I have. I'll get better."

"No, you will not, but yes, you will," said the wizard, still chuckling to himself.

"What do you mean by that?"

"You will never be a better mage. You will be a better Shaman. Give me your hand."

Mareva stared at the strange, misshapen, two-fingered claw that was extended to her. In the consternation at the Seat of the Naaru, she hadn't even noticed. She looked into the wizard's face.

"Who are you?"

The wizard raised his hood, and let it drop onto his back. Mareva, for a few heartbeats, could only stare. Then, she looked away. She was facing one of the Krokul, the Broken. Here was one of the erstwhile Draenei, like herself, who had been affected by the fel magics of the burning legion. This man had been at Shattrath, when it fell. He had survived the massacre. Mareva breathed in, turned her eyes back to the ravaged face. Then, she bowed her head.

"Sir."

The Broken One laughed quietly.

"I am no 'Sir'. I am Farseer Nobundo, Shaman of the Krokul. Now give me your hand. Is time you got bit more power."

Mareva laid her slender, delicate fingers in Nobundo's strong hand. Farseer Nobundo concentrated, and Mareva felt his powers extend to her, leaving her with the memories of magic, like treasure left on the shore by the receding tides.

"Good," said Nobundo. "Now you try again. Have drunk mana potion?"

"Yes."

"Then shoot target."

Mareva slowly turned round, raised her hands, aimed them at the target dummy. She took a deep breath, and let fly. The target dummy exploded in a rain of wood and straw. Mareva's jaw dropped, and she stared at her hands, expecting them to be smoking. They weren't. She slowly looked round at Farseer Nobundo, who was watching her with a little smile on his face.

"Good. Again. But use bigger dummy, yes?" 

* * *

The red light was off. Good! She tapped in the code, rushed through the door and poked Viral.

"Viral! I'm a Shaman!"

Viral slowly raised his head.

"Mwh?"

"I'm a Shaman!"

"Oh. Is that good?"

Mareva threw her arms into the air.

"Yes! I'm not a sucky mage! I'm an imba Shaman! I blew a target dummy to pieces! Nobundo is going to teach me to use totems!"

"Hold on," said Viral, scratching his stomach, "Orcs are shamans aren't they?"

"Yes, and so are we! Am I! But we're the good shamans!"

Something moved in the bed beside Viral. The covers were pulled away to reveal the horns and glowing eyes of a raven-haired girl. Viral smiled in an embarrassed kind of way.

"Mareva, meet Lanii. Her boyfriend is, um, busy, so I let her stay the night."

"Hello," said Lanii. Her eyes turned to Mareva and a big smile appeared on her face. "Uh... Hellooo." She bit her lip. "Are you a member?"

"Yes," said Mareva. "Meet me sometime and we'll work something out. Viral! I've just found out who I am." She threw herself down on top of Viral, and burst into tears. Viral's big hand gently stroked her hair.

Lanii gave Mareva a look, got up quietly, retrieved her clothes from a chair and made for the exit. In the door opening, she turned round and blew a kiss at Viral. Viral waved, and she was gone. 


	3. Part 3: Communion. - THE STRANGE LAST DAYS OF THE GOOD SHIP EXODAR

# THE STRANGE LAST DAYS OF THE GOOD SHIP EXODAR

## Part 3: Communion.

* * *

Mareva was sitting in a quiet corner of the Hall of Lights, and tried to talk to the Wind. She concentrated on the passing air. She concentrated on her breath, as it passed into her lungs, out of them. Even in this artificial environment, air taken from Draenor, re-cycled, oxygen and nitrogen levels carefully monitored and adjusted, Farseer Nubundo had assured her that the Spirit of Air still dwelt. Mareva's eyes were closed. She blocked the noises from her consiousness, the people passing by, the low drone of the engines she could feel in her bones. Her hands lay still in her lap. Her legs were crossed.

At times, Mareva thought she could hear a whisper, as of something not Draenei. Wishful thinking, probably. Still, wasn't wishful thinking all that this was? Did the Spirit of Air exist nowhere else but in the minds of the Shaman? Always a possibility, of course. She became aware of her thoughts, frowned, tried to banish all thought from her mind. Concentrate on the air flowing into her, out of her. Think of nothing. Think of breath. Think of flowing particles. Think of Air. 

 

Farseer Nobundo grinned. "Spirit of Air won't talk to you? Is very rude. Talk to boyfriend instead, no? Much better chance of getting answer, especially if say what he wants to hear."

Mareva sighed. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong. I try to empty my mind, concentrate only on Air, but thoughts always flow back in. I never thought thinking of nothing would be so difficult."

"Is because you are not at rest. O'ros and Velen pushed you hard. Still recovering." Nobundo gave her a most un-mystic grin. "Many play-mates are helping, yes?"

Mareva blushed a deep blue. "Um. Yes. Most relaxing. I used to have problems getting to sleep. Not any more. Who'd have thought?"

Nobundo nodded, and only a glint in his eyes hinted that he might be anything but completely serious.

"Perhaps I should join the Perverts."

He held up his hand, twisted and changed by the Burning Legion's fel magic. Draenei had five fingers, like Elves or Humans, apt to delicate work. Nobundo's fingers had fused into two large strong claws and a thumb. His body had hardened. His once quite strikingly handsome face had changed into a caricature. Wrinkles in his lips, nose all but disappeared. Nobody could look at it without being affected by it. It wasn't that he looked sick or unhealthy. He was quite fit, strong, and had an endurance to match the strongest of Warriors. But the knowledge that he had once looked much like they had, scared the Draenei in a primal way, and they recoiled, hiding their fear behind thinly-concealed contempt.

"Can not do very subtle things, but can keep going all night, and the following day too if need to."

Mareva smiled. "Well, that might be useful, but you can't get more than three points off a single sampling. So you'd make one girl very very happy, but still only end up with three points."

"Pah. Have them queue up. I rake in the points."

Mareva's smile faded. "Do the Krokul have children?"

Nobundo scratched his cheek. "Most of us not in the mood to try. I do not know of any. Not sure if blessing or not."

"It would be a victory over the Legion."

Nobundo shook his head. "Some victories worse than defeat." He sighed. "Well, I see you tried hard. Will meditate together tomorrow, see if I can lead you. Not to worry. Took me a year before Wind spoke to me. Most of that time, was praying for the Light to come back to me. Elements came to me when I stop being so stupid. You come back tomorrow early, yes?"

Mareva got up, nodded, bowed her head and left. Farseer Nobundo watched her as she walked to the engine room.

"Spirits keep you safe." 

* * *

"Talk to the wind? Easy. I do it all the time. Usually when I try to explain to people that you need experience to use the heavier armour. Honestly. I've had tiny little Paladin girls in my shop, no heavier than one of my arms, asking for battleplate. One of these days, I'll dress one of them up like she asks and then go for lunch while she tries to walk off in it."

"Oh? So you think only boys can wear the heavy armour?"

"By the Light, no! Pally chicks who've trained up look absolutely stunning in battleplate, and they can use it as well as Velen himself."

"What about Shaman chicks?"

"They don't even need armour to look stunning."

"Good save."

Viral gave Mareva an uncertain look.

"Um, not that I mind, but you may want to keep a bit quiet about your using Orc magic. It makes some people a bit uneasy."

"Orc magic? What Orc magic?"

"Well, that Shaman stuff you do. Orcs started it, you know? And you know what that led to."

Mareva scowled. "Incorrect. All the trouble with the Orcs started when the zlotniks stepped away from Shamanistic mysticism, and tried to see if demonic magic would better serve their needs. Opinions on this vary."

Viral sighed, put his arms round Mareva and pulled her close.

"You know about this. Lots of people will need lots of explaining. Keep your totems out of sight until then, I'd say."

"I am what I am. Farseer Nobundo taught me how to call upon the Spirit of Earth to make a Strength of Earth totem. When I put it down, our Warriors can hit harder. Surely, they will appreciate that? If Farseer Nobundo had not put down his fire resistance totem, then I would be dead now. As a Shaman, I can serve my Draenei brothers and sisters better than as a failing Mage."

"Oh, I'm all for using the weapons of the enemy agaist them, but people may feel that it's the first step on a path that leads to..." Viral waved his hand.

"Then people are stupid. We were living with Orc Shaman for years, with no problems. No enmity. They fell from their faith. Shaman are not evil."

Viral put his big hands on Mareva's slender shoulders, and looked deep into her eyes.

"You are not evil. I have known no joy greater than knowing you, since you picked me to help you with O'ros' power cables."

"Well, you had worked with power cables before."

Viral laughed quietly, and stroked one of the barbels on the side of her face.

"I lied. All I know is not to look into them. Never had my hand on a holy power cable before."

Mareva stared at him with her mouth hanging open. She could guess the answer, but she wanted to hear him say it.

"Then why by the Light Everlasting..."

"I was trying to impress you. I had hopes. And I've found more than I hoped for." The mischievous grin slowly faded from his face. "I don't want you to get hurt. Being beaten up by stupid persons hurts as much as by intelligent ones."

Mareva gave him a lop-sided grin. "I disagree with that statement, but not with the sentiment behind it. I will be careful." Her voice was sad. "We are all Draenei. We are all running away from the Burning Legion, and their slaves. Why must I be afraid of my fellow Draenei?"

"Because people are stupid," said Viral. "Enough of this gloom. Let me tell you about something I learnt last night."

Mareva laughed. "Is it disgustingly perverse?"

"She gave me three points for doing it to her." 

* * *

The door chime sounded. Captain Baqiir looked up.

"Enter."

The door opened, and Prophet Velen stepped in, a green glass bottle in his hand.

"Have you any glasses, Captain? I find I have some Telaari grape brandy that I would like your opinion on."

"Of course. It's not that horrible stuff that the engineers drink, is it?"

Velen sat down on a chair, and crossed his legs.

"Qrovna? May the Naaru preserve us. I still suspect that they tap that somewhere out of the machinery and we're all doomed as soon as we want to extend the landing thrusters or something."

The Captain walked to a cupboard, pulled out two small glasses and placed them on his desk. Velen carefully uncorked the bottle and filled both their glasses. They took a small sip. Velen turned the cup round between his large hands.

"How is Exodar, Captain?"

"The jumps were as successful as we hoped. We have about two hundred and eighty days of normal space travel to go. Exodar will find her way. Sometimes, when we are bored, we make a one-percent course correction, and watch the helm automata correct us."

"I must admit. You helmsmen really know how to enjoy yourselves."

"The fun and excitement never stop for a spacefarer. How are Exodar's passengers?"

"Coping well, for the most part. They managed to board in their thousands when we breached the Sin'dorei defences. We are almost a complete people."

"That is good to hear. At least, we will not starve."

"For we have Emarree," said Velen, with a nod. "Both flavours. As much as we could possibly want, and more. What are you having for dinner tonight?"

Captain Baqiir leaned back in his chair, and sipped his brandy.

"Do you remember Telaar?"

"Of course," said Velen. "I worked there for years."

"And the inn?"

"Caregiver Isel. She is a treasure. She would not come, sadly."

"Do you remember her smoked Talbuk venison?"

Velen took a deep breath. "How can anyone pass through that inn and not remember it?"

"And it is no use hunting for Talbuk yourself, even if you have the recipe. It is simply not the same."

"True. It is essential that she puts the plate in front of you, smiles at you and wishes you a good appetite."

Captain Baqiir put down his empty glass. Velen refilled it without asking.

"My beautiful wife promised me some Talbuk venison tonight. Come join us if you wish."

Prophet Velen's eyes wrinkled.

"Are we going mad? They say that if you pretend anything for long enough, eventually, you will end up believing in it."

Captain Baqiir laughed.

"As long as we all go mad at exactly the same rate, we will never know it until landfall."

"I worry, Captain, but at the same time, I see how my people are coping with their fate, and I am proud. It may seem like bliss to some, to literally have nothing to do for a year. But nature abhorrs a vacuum. They find things to do, even with... nothing."

"Well, I assume training will take up much of their time."

"True. But they are most inventive in finding things to do with their time. There is now a club dedicated to proving Vremaat's first theorem. And another one dedicated to disproving it."

"Not all clubs have such lofty intents," said the Captain. "The Deviants pursue the ultimate sexual experience. With great enthusiasm and levels of promiscuity the likes of which I have not encountered before in my life."

Velen grinned. "I heard of them. I had a few words with their chairman, Wildoor. He explained their ethics to me. Their ground rules are of openness and mutual respect. Wildoor tells me that he has run similar clubs elsewhere, with minimal problems."

"I am not sure whether I want to know about this. Anyway, they are after me. Apparently, if one of them, male or female, succeeds in seducing me into their bed, the achievement is worth twenty points. You, by the way are worth only fifteen."

Velen frowned. "I find that demeaning and insulting. I am the Prophet of my people. The Naaru spoke to me first, that I might lead my people to safety." He drained his glass. "You are a mere cart driver. I should be worth at least twenty-five points."

Captain Baqiir bared his fangs in a broad grin.

"Ah, but I am a married man! The Naaru do not care who you cavort with, but Foori will kill them, should she find them in my bed. And me, for that matter."

"In that case, be strong, and resist temptation with all your might."

"If I am in danger of succumbing, I will set my yeoman on them. She is currently leading the score board, or so I'm told."

"What, Lorelei? I thought she was a virgin! She can't be more than, what, eighteen years old?"

"Thirty-two. I was invited to her birthday party two years ago. I caught her looking through her notebook for people she had not 'sampled' yet. That is their word for it, by the way."

Velen got up from his chair and shook his head. "Honestly, Baqiir. Looking at young girl's notebooks. I am ashamed of you."

"Just a glance, quite by accident, I assure you. Will you join us tonight?"

"I must sample Foori's cooking. A woman who can make Emarree taste like Talbuk venison holds power to rival the Naaru."

"See you tonight." 

* * *

The young girl was skipping through one of the greater cargo holds. This was where they kept the engine parts. She knew, because she could just about read the labels on the crates.

"Engine parts, engine parts," she chanted. "Beautiful engine parts."

She put her hands on top of one of the crates, and jumped. She had to try a few times before she could push herself up onto the crate. She'd never been all the way to the top, and she had a feeling that today might be the day. Once she got to the top, she would be able to see the top of all the boxes. She bounced up and down on her hooves, and clambered on top of the second box. Just one more... She stood on top of the highest box, and looked down. She'd never done this before. She'd also never known that people lived here, and they were such _strange_ people. All pale, and they'd lost their horns and tails. Perhaps they were ashamed.

"Hello? Who are you?"

One of the creatures looked up at her. He leaped up on top of one of the boxes, then onto the next. No fair! He was much bigger than she was! And then, he grabbed her by the arms and carried her down. She stood stock still, looking up at the man. He smiled, put his hands on her shoulders, talked to her, but his words were all wrong and she couldn't understand him.

"I can help you look for your tails, if you want."

He quickly turned her round, and gave her a hug from behind, but his arm was round her throat. His other hand was on her head... 

* * *

"Open wide."

Viral put the spoon to Mareva's lips, being sure to spill a bit, just so she could lick them in a suitably lewd and seductive manner. This was probably required by some law or other.

Mareva sighed, and smiled from under the black fabric of the blindfold.

"Hmmm. Could this be...? Don't tell me. Let me..."

She licked her lips again.

" _Salty_ Emarree? Oh Sir, you spoil me. Take me! Take me now!"

Viral put down the bag.

"You are not getting into the spirit of things. And stop peeking out from under the blindfold."

Mareva giggled. "Are you going to switch to body parts any time soon? This is boring!"

"Honestly. My partner last night was squirming with pleasure. And I only gave her the sweet, and an energy bar."

"I am sorry. Emarree does not wake the fire in my loins. I'll make you a promise. When we get to a planet, I will buy every foodstuff I can afford, and eat it in a way that will make you helpless with desire. Hmm. I do like the blindfold, though. Get naked, lover."

"How do you know I am not?" 

 

Mareva's answer was lost in the sharp sound of the alarm. She ripped off the blindfold, looked at Viral. In a flash, she had put on her robes, and strapped on the leather chest piece she'd bought off a trader. Her one-handed mace hung on her belt.

"Got to go," she said.

The voice on the public address system sounded agitated. "Peacekeepers to cargo hold twenty. Peacekeepers to cargo hold twenty. Multiple, repeat multiple Sin'dorei spotted. One civilian victim."

Mareva sprinted down the corridors to the cargo hold, gathering up all the spells Nobundo had taught her. Several of the Peacekeepers were running in the same direction she was. When they got to cargo hold twenty, there was no need to ask where the action was. Peacekeepers were fighting at least a dozen Blood-elves sword to sword. Mareva didn't waste a moment. With swift pointing motions of her hands, she put down two totems.

"Strength of Earth," she whispered. "Searing totem."

The green totem pulsed with a faint light, and Mareva felt how the world became lighter. She felt stronger, _was_ stronger. More importantly, so were her fellow Draenei fighting the Blood-elves. Mareva did not intend to fight one of the Blood-elves mace to sword. Her red fire totem hummed, selected a Blood-elf sword fighter, and started shooting bolts of fire at it. Mareva took a deep breath, and let fly her improved lightning bolts, against another living creature for the first time. The Blood-elf screamed. His arms and legs twitched, and he fell down, to be killed by one of the sword fighters.

Mareva didn't let herself think, and started casting lightning bolts at another of the enemy. Her jaw was set, and she was shaking with anger and adrenalin. More help arrived from other parts of Exodar, and the fight was soon finished. Thirteen Sin'dorei lay dead, and they looked round to see if everybody was alright. Mareva was not surprised to see Giraz on the scene, alight with the after-effects of his battle spells.

"Right! Who found these bastards?"

One of the soldiers raised a hand. "Me, Sir."

"Well done. How did you spot them?"

"Cooking smell, Sir." The soldier's face was pale and drawn. "Someone was roasting... and it smelt so... good!"

Suddenly, the soldier turned round, ran to one of the cargo crates and was violently sick.

Giraz walked up, put a hand on the soldier's shoulder.

"Steady, man. We got them all. Good job."

The soldier shook his head violently, retched again, but nothing came. He pointed a trembling finger.

"Look!" 

* * *

Captain Baqiir gave Prophet velen an unhappy look, shaking his head.

"What kind of an animal would do that? Kill, and eat, a young girl?"

Velen bowed his head, looking at his knees. "A spider would. A warpstalker. Plenty of big cats will eat Draenei if we let them. But those are wild animals. We, and Sin'dorei, are sentient people. We are not mere animals. We have conscience."

He looked at the wall, at one of Baqiir's models of Exodar and the other parts of Tempest Keep.

"And yet, I wish to hate them for it, but in all honesty I cannot. That poor girl simply had the bad luck to run into them, playing where she should never have been able to enter." Velen looked at the captain. "They know we give them no quarter. If we had found them, we would have killed them. They could not keep her with them. They could not let her go. And they were probably more desperate for food than we are. It was the only logical thing they could do."

"I am sorry, my friend, but I have no problem hating them for it. If there had been any survivors, I would have blown them out of the airlock in a breath."

"All our Peacekeepers are under orders to kill any enemy on sight. There will be no survivors. We have re-commenced our searches for enemies. These searches will continue until we touch down on Azeroth. That will keep the Peacekeepers busy."

"Good. If only we could be sure we have them all." 

 

Mareva sat on Viral's bed, back to his large chest, his arms round her. Her fourth cup of Qrovna was in her hand.

"I have killed," she said. "And at first I felt bad about it. Then, I saw what was left of that poor little girl." Tears welled up in her eyes, and she tossed back her drink. She bared her fangs in a horrible perversion of a smile. "And now, I don't."

Viral pulled her closer to him, took the empty cup out of her hand and put it down on the floor next to the bed. He pushed Mareva down on her side, wrapped his arms round her, and whispered words of sleep in her ear. After a few minutes, her quiet sobs stopped, and her breath became regular. 

 

She sat on the floor, next to Farseer Nobundo, in a deep, deep trance. He had only helped her a little to achieve that state. Most of it, she had done herself.

"Spirit of Wind, speak to me. I have need of you. I must be strong. Strong against those who would destroy us. One of ours, an innocent child, has died because we could not protect her. I must be strong." 

 

"She is alive. All that is, is alive." 

* * *

Copyright: © 2008,2009,2010 Menno Willemse. All rights reserved.


	4. Part 4: Discord. - THE STRANGE LAST DAYS OF THE GOOD SHIP EXODAR

# THE STRANGE LAST DAYS OF THE GOOD SHIP EXODAR

## Part 4: Discord.

* * *

Mareva finished her last lap round the ship, heading to the Crystal Hall, paying close attention to her breathing. She had fallen into a steady rhythm of days. Wake up, meditate, run. After that, it depended. There was work, but after the two jumps through the Twisting Nether, there really wasn't much to do. The mass reaction engines were purring along like kittens, and required no maintenance, just occasional monitoring, which she could do from her terminal in her cabin. The Trans-dimensional engines would not be used again until time came to leave Azeroth. So Mareva had called up every book and language course she could find, and started studying Common. Already, she thought she could ask Azerothians the way to the nearest inn. She smiled.

"Please sell me one of everything on the menu," she said, in Common, to nobody in particular. By the time she got to Azeroth, she'd be able to discuss more complex things than 'Give me all your food and nobody gets hurt'. It had to be said. With their near-inexhaustible supply of Emarree, they did not starve. On the other hand, even with the proliferation of clubs that sprung up everywhere, to start a cooking club here would be asking for trouble.

Mareva was still in the Deviants. The pages of her little black book slowly filled up with boys and girls she had sampled. She wasn't doing too badly on points, either. If she got less than two points, she could usually figure out why not. She had sampled one man who only desired other men and wanted to find out what the fuss with women was all about. He still hadn't known when he left. One girl had read something in one of the more specialised texts from the library and wanted to try it out with Mareva. Mareva had been sceptic from the start, but played along. It was a dismal failure, and the girl had fallen out of bed and knocked her head on the table. But apart from those, she usually enjoyed the samplings, and was fair when assigning points.

Viral was doing fine, too, but since he had no inclinations towards men, he had a smaller pond in which to fish. Given that, his score was impressive. Must be all that practice with his Engineer girlfriend. Mareva grinned to herself. Viral. She would give him full points simply for lying in bed with her. They'd agreed to be the final entries in each other's little black book, once they knew all there was to know about the Art of Pleasure. Though they had, of course, discussed techniques, and in some cases demonstrated on each other. Purely for academic reasons.

Viral had set up shop in Exodar's cavernous central hall. It got more people passing than the Traders' Tier, and anyway, all the shops there were already taken. They didn't mind him using their forge, but selling his craft goods was taking it a bit too far. So he sat in the middle of the hall and sold armour to Peacekeepers, adventurers and other interested folk.

Exodar was large. Normally, on ships, space was at a premium. The little runners were small, and for a Draenei male, they might more accurately be described as a spacesuit. But trans-dimensional engines work better the more mass they have to work with. Exodar's engines could propel her half-way across the Galaxy. Bigger engines could propel a whole planet out of the Universe and into the next. Which left one with the small problem of where to store, oh, twenty inconvenient suns to power such an engine. 

 

Mareva reached her cabin, opened the door, chucked her clothes in the wash and wrapped herself in a robe. Viral's red "do not disturb" light was off, which meant that he was either out or not busy. These things were important to note. She walked into his cabin, showered, put on her work clothes and walked to the engine room. Grofal was sitting on the Command Chair, hooves up on the console, a mug of coffee in his hands.

"Alard would have your tail for that, you know," said Mareva.

"Morning Gorgeous," said Grofal. "Coffee?"

"Please."

Because Grofal was obviously not making a move to get her any, she wandered over to the corner, scooped coffee into a mug and added boiling water.

"Anything exciting happen last night?"

"Power output fluctuated by zero-point-three percent. Probably some bugger on the bridge getting bored and playing with the helm. Apart from that, not a thing." Grofal took a sip of coffee. "Boring. I like it."

"Well, lots of excitement coming up in a few days."

Grofal's eyes lit up more brightly with the sheer excitement of it all. He practically bounced in his chair.

"Oh, yes yes yes! We get to turn the engines off, make sure the fine folk behind the mast have enough power to turn this thing around, and then... we turn it on again!"

"Hah. I've read the messages already. They have pictures. And animations. And still people are going to be surprised when gravity disappears for an hour or so. You mark my words. Who's on shift for that happy event?"

"Allard and Inuuri. Though I may look in just to see what the console looks like when it's actually doing something."

Mareva grinned. "Good. Gives me the opportunity to try out what it's like to do it in zero gravity."

"Oh you girls with boyfriends," said Grofal.

"Join the Deviants. Be quick though. Once I'd explained what was going to happen, everybody started making appointments like mad."

"You can't join just for the zero-gravity hour, can you?"

"That would be frowned upon," said Mareva.

Grofal dropped his hooves onto the ground, and got up. "Some of the girls I've seen with Deviant badges on can frown on me as long as they like. But I don't like being available to all and sundry."

"You don't have to. You just don't get the points if you aren't."

Mareva sat down on the Throne, in front of the engine consoles. Her eyes quickly scanned the readouts. All in the green. She looked up at Grofal, who was looking down on her. He shook his head.

"I don't know how Viral puts up with it. Or you for that matter."

Mareva smiled. "See it as a sports club. You wouldn't mind your girlfriend playing, oh, sail-board with another guy, no?"

Grofal stroked his barbels, thinking. "I suppose not. And you save on having to buy a board, too!"

"There! No disadvantages, then."

"Hm. Well, have a good shift. See you tomorrow." 

 

Mareva let her gaze slide over the readouts. Grofal was probably right to worry. She could definitely see why a club like the Deviants could be potentially disastrous to a relationship. A few members had left because their boyfriends or girlfriends couldn't accept that their love was, well, having sex with lots of people. Sadly, some Deviants had lost their partners of years, more or less for the same reason. She thought of Viral in the arms of some other girl. No need to imagine it, even. She'd seen him at a distance, working his magic on a _very_ cute redhead. They'd walked off together. She'd felt strangely proud, not jealous. Oh well. She shook her head, pulled up her language course.

"Good Morning. My name is Mareva. Long life, good health." 

* * *

Mareva, having handed over the controls to Inuuri, was walking from the engine room to her cabin. Her Deviants' badge was swinging on a piece of cord round her neck. Someone tapped her shoulder, and she stopped and looked round. A man was looking at her, with a winning smile on his face.

"Could it be possible that a beautiful woman like you and a handsome man like myself have not sampled each other yet?"

Mareva smiled. Well, walking around the place wearing the badge more or less made you fair game for being propositioned by anyone with a similar badge, or in some cases even without one. And she carried her little black book with her at all times, because you never knew when opportunity knocked. To be honest, the man wasn't much to look at, but most of her less-than-perfect experiences had been with drop-dead gorgeous people.

"If we had, I am certain I would have remembered. You have the look of one well-versed in depravity. Yours or mine?"

"Oh, mine. Definitely mine. It is only a short way away, and I cannot wait."

Mareva bowed her head, and followed the man to his cabin, noting that before she turfed Viral out of his nice cabin, hers had been the same model. Bunk bed. No sitting up suddenly, then. She wondered idly what the man had in mind, as he opened the door.

She looked round. Hmm. The Deviants must have been a blessing for this man. The place was not clean. Empty bags of Emarree littered the table, and some of the less accessible places of the floor. She looked at the bed, noting that, at least, it had been changed recently. The man might have had some polite feedback about that. He turned round to her, reached out, and stroked the barbels hanging from her face.

"Welcome to my humble cabin. You are still wearing clothes."

Mareva raised an eyebrow. Eagerness and enthusiasm were to be praised, but so were finesse and subtlety. Not a three-pointer then, if she was any judge.

"My name is Mareva. What is yours?"

"Mareva. What a beautiful name. It suits you."

The man gently tugged at her barbel, pulling her closer. His other hand slowly ran from her tail up her back, to her neck.

"Imagine how much better this would feel if you weren't wearing that blouse."

Mareva gave a little laugh, and started to undo buttons. There were about twenty of them. She'd bought this blouse specially so she could slowly undo them all. By the time she undid the last, the lucky boy or girl would be all ready to go. It's details like that, that get you the points. By the time she got to button seven or eight, the lucky boy grabbed the hem of her blouse, and started to pull it over her head. Mareva slapped his wrist.

"Hey. Hands off. Take off your own clothes."

"Hurry up, will you? Please?"

Mareva sneered. "Would the gentleman please give a girl a bit of room? How am I supposed to be alluring like this?"

"You'll be very alluring when we can see some more of that gorgeous skin of yours."

Mareva put her fist on her hip. "Well, share and share alike. She jerked her head at the guy, whose name she still didn't know. "Off with that shirt."

In one move, he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it into a corner.

"That's the way to do it. Your turn."

Mareva took a breath. That was the thing about clubs like these. You had to take the sub-optimal with the sublime. She pulled her blouse up. Let's get this over with. Just as she started to pull it over her head, the door-chime rang. Mareva froze. What in the name... Her guest-giver opened the door and two more men and one young girl stepped in. The girl was clearly under the influence of something stronger than tea.

"Hey, what's the problem, Areeq? You said you'd have her eating out of your hand by now. I don't see her chewing."

"Oh, she will," said Areeq. "Just you wait."

The girl looked round at Mareva, a smile on her face.

"Hiya! You're cute! Ready to party?"

Mareva slowly turned round to Areeq, shaking with rage.

"This is the point at which I leave." She took a step towards the door. Areeq grabbed her round the middle, and threw her back into the cabin. Mareva slipped on an empty Emarree bag and narrowly avoided cracking her skull on the table.

"Hey!" said the girl. "That's not nice! If you're going to play like that, I'm out of here!"

She turned on her hooves and walked out of the door. The man she'd come in with looked over his shoulder, then at Mareva. Finally, at Areeq.

"Me too. Next time, deliver the goods."

He left without another word. Areeq looked at Mareva, who had got back to her hooves. He growled.

"You just cost me ten gold, bitch." He looked at the last man. "You still in?"

Mareva didn't wait for an answer. She raised her fists into the air, and magic flowed. There was a crackling sound, and lightning ran up and down her body.

"Try to entertain him yourself. I am leaving. Now."

"No, you are not." 

The unknown man took one look at Mareva, and raised his hands.

"No deal, Areeq. Did you not bother to inform the lady we would be arriving? Stupid zlotnik. I'm up for as much fun as the next guy, but I stop short of having to answer awkward questions to the Peacekeepers."

He left. Areeq slowly turned round to Mareva.

"Well then. That's twenty gold you've just cost me. Now what am I going to do to recoup the fun I could have had with that?"

Mareva bared her fangs.

"Play with yourself. Now let me go, or else."

"Or else what?"

Mareva stepped forward. Areeq aimed a punch at Mareva's stomach. There was the crackling of lightning, and Areeq cried out. Mareva shouted, and her magic flowed again. Areeq was picked up and smashed into the wall. He slowly slid down, and looked up at Mareva. She bent over him.

"You will not mess with a Shaman. Not if you like to stay in one piece." She tilted her head. "Now can I leave? I think I can. Thank you. No points for you."

She stepped out of the door, slammed her hand on the 'Close' button. Then she leant against the door, took a deep breath and stomped off. 

 

"Chairman Wildoor?"

Wildoor looked round at Mareva, and smiled. "Good evening. Have we had the pleasure?"

"I am not in the mood. Somebody badly needs kicking out of the Deviants." 

* * *

Prophet Velen opened his door, and saw Wildoor, wearing an unhappy expression on his face.

"Ah. Wildoor. Please come in. May I offer you some tea?"

Wildoor swallowed.

"Yes, thank you, Prophet."

"Please sit down."

Velen turned his back, and turned on the kettle, waiting patiently for it to come to the boil. Then, he poured the water over the tea powder. He picked up the cup and put it down in front of Wildoor.

"Well then, Wildoor. I am not in the habit of expecting the men under my command never to mess up." He looked at Wildoor, who didn't dare touch his tea. "But I _do_ judge them on how they deal with the falling debris once they do mess up. I have heard of the unfortuate events involving Engineer Mareva. She seems to have come out of the experience without irrepairable damage, which is fortunate. That one of the members of your club of friends was under the misapprehension that he could sell her services to third parties, is... less so. I have spoken with Yeoman Lorelei, who is a prominent member of the Deviants, and she tells me that she has never had a negative experience since she joined, and informs me that she will probably start the replacement social club, should I dare to forbid yours. This speaks in your favour." Prophet Velen paused, until Wildoor looked up. "How do you intend to prevent similar events from happening again?"

Wildoor tried to swallow with a dry throat.

"Well..."

"Have some tea, Chairman Wildoor. It will ease your throat and allow you to think carefully before answering my question." 

 

"If you tell me who it is, I will gladly adjust his attitudes for you. I have not tested out a new model of one-handed mace yet."

Mareva smiled, pressing her cheek to Viral's broad chest. His arms felt so nice round her. His hand on her back.

"That is already taken care of. He is enjoying the hospitality of the Peacekeepers. We have many members among them, and they have a stressful job. They do not appreciate their entertainment being interfered with." She gave a happy sigh. "Your present activity is more important."

"I just feel so angry. I want to punch his face in."

"Shut up and move your left hand a bit lower. Hmm. I meant your other left, but this is good."

Viral squeezed her a bit tighter.

"Are you alright?"

Mareva nodded. "Yes. Though I shudder to think how many others have been in this situation."

"By the Light. If this has been going on, Velen will never allow us to continue."

Mareva rubbed her cheek into Velen's chest.

"I would have to concentrate on you alone."

She felt his chest move as he laughed.

"I would never survive." 

* * *

Normally, the meeting room was dimly lit when they met. Today, the lights were on, and no drinks were served. Wildoor pointed at the door and one of the Style Committee members closed it. Wildoor coughed.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. Today, I have had to do something, for the first time in the ninety years I have run clubs like this." He took a deep breath. "I have had to revoke somebody's membership, and turn him in to the Peacekeepers. I will not mention his name. We are in full attendance. See who is missing and draw your conclusions. Then, do not mention his name again in these chambers."

There was a murmur as people looked around, looking for familiar faces. Nobody seemed to have known Areeq. Those who had, said nothing.

"The person I speak of, has attempted to sell the favours of one of our number, to persons outside of the Deviants. I will not mention her name, but I am very _very_ glad that she is present at this time, and as your chairman, I offer my sincerest apologies to that person. To offer points to her, would be merely to add insult to injury. I mention only that if there is anything I, or my staff, can do for her, she has but to ask."

Viral scowled. "Bloody nice of him."

"Shh," said Mareva. "No harm done to me, remember?"

"Hmm."

Wildoor took a deep breath.

"To avoid events such as these, I will regrettably have to revoke the rules about sampling people outside the Deviants. Samplings will from this moment forward be restricted to members only. Furthermore, aspirant members will be vetted by myself and the Style Commitee before they are admitted as members. They will no longer be admited simply by sponsorship of a member. While you are, of course, still free to invite into your bed whoever you like, you will no longer be able to claim points for the achievement."

Wildoor closed his eyes a moment, visibly shaken. "Please, my friends. Take care. Not all the people out there share our values."

Wildoor paused a moment, waiting for the murmurs to die down. A slender hand was raised.

"Can you still earn style points for sampling the Captain? I undertake not to, because I have an unfair advantage, but enterprising souls..."

The room burst out in laughter, Wildoor with them.

"Thank you for that question, Yeoman Lorelei. If anyone here wishes to die at the hands of Lady Foori, then they will still be awarded twenty style points. Posthumously."

Wildoor raised a hand and the laughter died down.

"Also, there is one exception to the rule. Rules always start out simple and straightforward, and then grow subclauses and other tentacles as time goes on. But I digress." He coughed. "I have had a visit from Aqaar, Supreme High Priest of Hut."

"Praise be to Hut," murmured several members of the audience.

Wildoor raised his eyebrows. "We have Huttites among us? What about Gor?"

"Praise be to Gor!"

"Thank you. Now. Aqaar asked me for a favour. It appears that many Huttites and Gorrites commit atrocities in the face of their respective deities."

"Praise be to our respective deities," shouted someone.

Wildoor laughed. "Can we leave the praise for a bit? Thank you. Anyway, Huttites, Gorrites and I think even the Followers of Null..." Wildoor waited a moment for the Followers of Null-who-does-not-exist to raise their voices, but none came. Naturally. Praising a deity who does not exist would be silly. Wildoor shook his head.

"Zealots, in short, can atone for their transgressions by throwing themselves at our mercy. We receive the penitents, commit our special tortures upon them, and report their suffering to one of the High Priests. This will net you three points."

The company turned into a sea of grins, and variations on " _This_ could be fun!" Wildoor raised a hand.

"Now please keep in mind our most important rule." His face became serious. " _Especially_ now. Consent must, _must_ still be given, and can be revoked at a moment's notice. There will be no need to reflect that in the report. Make up something that mothers will tell in hushed voices, to scare their young. I have explained this to Aqaar, and he understands. He regrets to say that as Supreme High Priest, he is incapable of transgressions and therefore will not need our attentions." Wildoor grinned like a wolf. " _Thirty_ style points to the man or woman who trips him up. If it is a group effort, thirty each. Get the smug git!" 

 

Mareva walked along the corridor, to her cabin, hand in hand with Viral. A smile was on her face. She was with him, his hand was warm in hers. What could be wrong? She looked up at his face.

"I am glad that the unfortunate events were not the only thing to be discussed today. I would not like to think that people could not enjoy each other anymore because of something that happened to me."

"Praise be to Hut," said Viral.

"Hmm. Yes. Some of these religious fanatics look _tasty_."

"They do. Robes cut down to their navels, and all the way up to their hips. Sacrilegious. One wonders how their clothes stay attached to their bodies."

"They will not," said Mareva. "Not if I have anything to do with it."

They walked on in silence for a while. They came to Mareva's cabin. Viral turned towards her, put his big, strong, capable hands on her shoulders and looked deep into her eyes.

"I think you should not sleep alone tonight," he said seriously.

Mareva gave him a wicked smile. "I think I should not sleep at all, if I can help it," she said. 

* * *

Copyright: © 2008,2009,2010 Menno Willemse. All rights reserved.


	5. Part 5: Eccentricity - THE STRANGE LAST DAYS OF THE GOOD SHIP EXODAR

# THE STRANGE LAST DAYS OF THE GOOD SHIP EXODAR

## Part 5: Eccentricity

* * *

"Excuse me, dear. Could I ask you something?"

Mareva looked behind her. She was buried up to the armpits in one of those equipment lockers that the public hopefully never get to see the inside of. If they did, panic would ensue. She was following one of the many wires from its start to its end, and trying not to disconnect the wrong one.

"Do you have a moment?"

The old lady gave her a wrinkly smile. "Of course, sweetie. When you're ready." After a moment, she added. "There may be a cup of tea in it for you, you know?"

"Bliss," muttered Mareva. Her fingers found the terminal lead she was looking for. Number twelve. Good. She pulled out the wire, gingerly extracted it from the tangle, disconnected the other end and tossed it behind her. She looked in her toolbox for a replacement.

"Hey. When will the network be up again?"

Mareva looked up. A man was looking down on her, clearly expecting her to know off the top of her head who he was, what part of the network was not working and basically point her finger at it and make it work again, and faster than it ever was.

"Which cabin are you in, Sir?"

"The cabin with the broken network, like I've been telling you for weeks now. Were you planning on fixing it any time soon? Like this century?"

Mareva took a deep breath, fighting the temptation simply to shoot a few lightning bolts into the equipment locker and declare it irrevocably broken.

"Which particular connection were you expecting us to fix, Sir? Your cabin number would be helpful in determining what's wrong."

"Look. Don't you bloody stokers realise who I am? It is imperative that I have a decent network connection. I'm not asking for too much, am I? I have important things to do."

Mareva looked at the old lady, who was standing there, patiently, quietly.

"Excuse me, Madam. I'll have your heater fixed in no time. Just after I update the status on this gentleman's network issues. We may have to escalate."

"Damn right," said the man. "This is costing me gold. I've got a good mind to sue you stokers and get the damages out of your salaries."

The old lady sniffed. "But... I'm so cold. So very cold. I can't feel my legs anymore."

The poor old woman stumbled forward, and Mareva could only just catch her. She held her up gently.

"Thank you, sweetie. Oh, my poor legs."

Mareva carefully balanced the old lady on faltering legs, gingerly let go of her, and closed the equipment locker. She turned to the man.

"I'm sorry Sir. This has priority. This poor woman is freezing to death in her very cabin. Heating problems take precedence over network issues. It is about absolute zero out there, after all."

The man started breathing flames. "Oh, that's just great! And what the hell am I supposed to do while you play with pipes?"

Mareva put an arm round the old lady and made to walk off. She cast an unfriendly glance over her shoulder.

"Try to seduce a real live girl. Just for variety."

The old lady's shoulders moved in gentle sobs, or so it seemed. With Mareva supporting her fragile frame, they walked off to her cabin. 

* * *

"More tea, love?"

Mareva took her screwdriver from between her teeth, and closed up the panel in Mhaari's cabin.

"Please. What is this? It's not like any other tea I've had."

The old lady poured more tea into Mareva's cup. Her eyes glinted.

"That's because it's real tea, from tea leaves. The tea you get here, from powder... well I suppose it will do in a pinch, but this is much nicer. I don't have much, but I do have a lifetime supply of tea leaves."

"It's lovely, thanks."

Mareva called up the heater dial and turned it to 'high'. Somewhere, a fan started to turn and warm air flowed out of the grate at the bottom. Mareva nodded with a satisfied smile, and turned it down to a more normal setting, so Mhaari would not be blown about in her cabin by the hot winds. The old girl looked frail enough to.

"There. Just a breaker popped. The things don't like it if you block them. Move your suitcase away from the grate, and you should be fine. So your heater was really broken. Imagine that."

Mhaari nodded. "Much better. I can feel the place warming up already. Drink your tea, dear. It would be a shame to let it go cold." She chuckled. "And then you can finally return to that poor man's network. He'll be ever so happy."

Mareva held her cup between her hands, looking at the old lady. Her hair was white as snow. Her horns had been filed short, no doubt after having been broken at some point. Old people's horns had a tendency to become brittle. She was thin, so thin that Mareva couldn't imagine how she could keep moving. Only her eyes still shone brightly, with a mischievous glint that betrayed a sharp mind behind them.

"If I fix that man's network, then he will undoubtedly find something else to complain about. Zlotnik."

"Tut tut," said Mhaari. "That's not a nice word, however accurate."

"Hmm. Here we are, having saved his sorry tail from being used for target practice by the Burning Legion, and he complains about the network. Honestly. It's not like he cannot find one of the public terminals in the Traders' Tier."

"Oh but dear, perhaps he has sensitive, important information to work with." Mhaari sniffed. "With much of the screen being taken up by different shades of blue."

Mareva snorted, almost spilling her tea. There really was no such thing as a little innocent old lady.

"Oh, I am sorry. That was naughty of me."

"Yes, it was," said Mareva, and finished her tea. "Well, back to the grindstone. Thank you for the tea."

"Do feel free to come back, dear. When you feel like a cup of tea or a chat."

Mareva smiled. "I will. Thank you."

She picked up her toolbox, and went back to the equipment cabinet. She opened it, pulled a fresh wire out of her toolbox and connected it. She looked at her handiwork. One of these days, she should probably rip out every wire in that cabinet and re-do them properly. Just like everybody before her. Mareva sighed, closed the panel, realised that she still didn't know which cabin the man was in and wandered off. 

* * *

"Oh, I'm awfully sorry to bother you again. Mareva, was it? It's my heater again. Could you possibly have a look?"

"Hmm. Did you put your suitcase back where it was when last I found it?"

"Of course not. I'm not stupid. I put it beside my bed."

"I will have a look."

Mareva popped off the cover to the cabin's electrics, and sure enough, the breaker had gone again. She flipped it back up, and the heater sprung back to life.

"Thank you dear," said Mhaari. "Tea?"

Mareva gave her a look. Then, she smiled.

"Please. If it happens again, tell me and I'll install a bigger breaker."

She sat down on Mhaari's bed, watching her shuffle round her cabin with cups and a teapot.

"Do you live alone here?"

"Yes, love. My husband remained in Shattrath. Said he had to do his bit against the Burning Legion. If only to make them think they'd killed us all. Put me on the cart, and had me carted off. Silly old man."

Mareva stared. "Was he in Shattrath when it fell?"

"Yes, he was. He was a Paladin, you know? Couldn't run away. But he put me on the cart, and said he'd follow me when they'd beaten off the Burning Legion. Silly old man. Your tea is getting cold, love."

Mareva drunk her tea. She'd heard about the people who had remained in Shattrath. Old men and women. Just enough able-bodied people to put up a semblance of a defence. Futile. Useless. And still, they probably owed it to them that they were here now. They had bought them the time to board Exodar and run. They had known they were going to die. They were a bunch of scarecrows against a full Horde batallion. And still, they had stayed. Mareva swallowed. And here was one of them.

"Well, I mustn't keep you. Thank you for fixing my heater."

"You are welcome. My pleasure. Take care." 

* * *

"Old Mhaari," said Farseer Nobundo. "I know her. Her husband was there when Legion hand us our arses. Got himself killed in first attack. He is the lucky one. He never was broken like some of us, and wasn't there after the surrender. Saw it happen. Big demon. Over very fast. Others not so lucky." He looked at his hands, lying still in his lap. "Not lucky at all. Drive poor Mhaari mad to know it."

"She didn't seem very mad to me," said Mareva. "Just lonely. She can't have many friends."

"You caught her on good day. Would visit her," said Nobundo. "But she look at me and screams and hides."

Mareva stared at nothing in particular.

"She broke her heater on purpose, just for someone to talk to. Her suitcase was hot. I felt it. Poor woman. Hope she'll be alright once we get to Azeroth."

Nobundo gave Mareva a sad look. "She will not make it to Azeroth. She is sick. Will die on board. Few months maybe."

"Maybe she should have stayed with her husband. They would have been together till the last."

Nobundo's face darkened. "No. Curse them. Every Draenei man or woman not killed by those Kor'kluk is victory to us. Every woman, no matter how old, not tossed into the pit like garbage, not slaughtered like cattle. Every breath Mad Old Mhaari take, is one she take despite Legion not wanting her to. You are not dead. This is victory. Every time you make love to that armoursmith friend of yours, and feel glad, is victory. Mhaari's husband is part of reason why you are breathing today. She die, and no Orc or Demon make her. That, too, is victory."

Nobundo closed his eyes, took a deep breath.

"I am sorry. Should not have got angry with you. How your meditations go?"

Mareva blinked, shook her head.

"The Spirit of Air has not spoken to me since last time. I have not found any of the other spirits." She sighed. "Perhaps they have nothing to say to me."

"Do not lose faith. Remember how long it took me. Already, you are much more open to the Spirits. When there is reason to, they will speak to you. Just you keep listening." 

* * *

"I thought this was an officer's club. I didn't know they let stokers in."

Mareva looked round at the light-brown-haired female standing next to her, noted the number on her official Deviants' badge, looked down the list. Mareva saw that she was seven points ahead of her. She had ten more to hand in. Smug? Never.

"Helmsman Debaar. Why should they not let us in? We have the good looks, the endurance, and the expertise. Also, we are almost as bereft of morals as the people behind the mast."

"Hah. You can't possibly expect us to rub shoulders with you people?"

"Well, not for a very long time. It gets boring. I can think of at least a dozen better places to rub." Mareva sniffed. "Problem is, the officers tend to conk out before I do them all. Then they complain that I do not give them full marks."

"I find that hard to believe. We are trained for stamina in the army. If I'd let any of you, I'd outlast you by hours."

"Half of that is in enchanted gems on your armour. I must admit there is a certain... appeal in sampling someone in chainmail, but eventually, you do need to take it off."

They were facing each other now. Mareva sized up Helmsman Debaar. She looked fit enough. She was wearing a sweater tight enough to show the muscle on her arms. She was perhaps half an inch shorter than Mareva was. Her horns swept back and out, framing a face that was, admittedly, very pretty. But in months of sampling all kinds of males and females, club members or not, Mareva had found that the most handsome or pretty ones usually weren't the ones she enjoyed most. Good looks were nice. Confidence was nice. The right frame of mind was essential. Turning a sampling into a sparring match of some kind, was... Hmm. Mareva suddenly thought of this arrogant piece of work, helpless under her fingers, unable to resist, unable even to _want_ to resist. Begging for her to stop, and still, begging for more. She could do it. She had before. Had it done to her, as well. Something started to stir in Mareva's stomach. It fought its way to the surface, and escaped as a little smile on her face.

"You wouldn't last half an hour with me," said Helmsman Debaar.

"Would that be from disgust, or from boredom?"

"Exhaustion. If I really wanted to, I could make you beg for mercy in ten minutes."

"My cabin is three corridors away."

"Have you showered recently?"

"This way, bitch." 

* * *

"Another round, Helmsman Debaar?"

Helmsman Debaar was lying next to Mareva, on her stomach. Mareva slowly ran a finger from Debaar's neck down to her tail, wrapped her hand round it and squeezed, not too tightly. A shudder ran up Debaar's spine. She slowly lifted her head.

"How many have we done?"

"Six, I think. The first sitting up together, to determine who would be at the bottom, then two with you on top, then three with me. I believe it is your turn to be on top."

Debaar blinked slowly.

"Weren't we side by side last time?"

"Only briefly. Your turn to do the hard work." Mareva turned onto her back, looked into Debaar's eyes. "Are you ready?"

Debaar smiled. "We have been sampling for, what, three hours? I concede that you have lasted more than half an hour. I feel I am taking up an inordinate amount of your time. No doubt you have others to sample."

"Well... maybe," said Mareva. "Shall we proceed to the administrative part?"

Debaar found her clothes, produced her little black book and presented it to Mareva. Mareva handed over hers.

"Can I borrow your pen?"

"Of course."

Debaar wrote, closed the book, and handed it and Mareva's pen back. Mareva wrote in Debaar's book and handed it back. She put her hands behind her head, and watched Debaar pull on her clothes. Debaar turned round to Mareva.

"Well, this was... interesting, Engineer Mareva."

"It certainly was, Helmsman Debaar. Good hunting."

"And you."

Mareva waited till the door closed behind Debaar's tail, then closed her eyes, took a deep breath. Thank the Light. Even at the bottom, she didn't think she could have lasted another round. It had to be said, Helmsman Debaar knew what she was doing. She suddenly grinned. But _she_ had given up first. Mareva tilted back her head, raised her fists in the air, and cried out.

"Do not mess with the Engineers!"

She opened her little black book, to see what Debaar had written. She laughed quietly, shaking her head.

"Three points. Most memorable. Not bad for a stoker." 

 

Debaar stepped out of Engineer Mareva's cabin with a spring in her step, pressed the button to close it, then leaned with her back against the wall and closed her eyes. Oh my... What are we feeding these stokers, that they can keep going like that? She opened her book. She'd better have given her a decent score. A smile appeared on Debaar's face.

"Three points. You've earned it, bitch. You'll need them if you want to catch me."

Debaar threw back her head and laughed loudly and long. Something moved in front of her. A Follower of Hut looked disapprovingly at her messed-up hair, and her hastily-thrown-on clothes. She blew a lock of hair out of her face.

"What are you looking at?" 

* * *

"Look, Mhaari. If you wish me to drop by for a chat, then there is no need to break your heater. It doesn't like it. If the heating element goes, I am not sure we have a replacement."

Old Mhaari closed her eyes, a little blush on her wrinkled face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to cause you any trouble. I just..."

Mareva put a hand on Mhaari's arm. "I understand. Don't worry. I don't mind. I love your tea."

Mhaari looked up at Mareva. "That's nice, dear. I'll just make some for the three of us. I do wonder what's keeping that man. He should have been home hours ago."

Mareva blinked, took a short breath.

"Well, perhaps you should just make him another pot when he gets here. Otherwise, it'll just go cold."

"I suppose so," said Mhaari. "He was a Paladin, you know? He was ever so brave, staying behind. I do wonder what's keeping him. He's usually home for dinner."

Mhaari fell silent, staring at the wall. She bit her lip, and blinked.

"He's not coming back, is he?"

Mareva didn't know what to say, what to do. She watched old Mhaari start shaking, tears starting to roll down her wrinkled cheeks, quietly sobbing. She sat down next to her, wrapped her arms round her. Tears ran down her own cheeks, but she didn't notice.

"Everything that is, is alive," she whispered. 

* * *

"Look. I've seen you walk in and out of that old bat's door for days now. I think she does it on purpose. Let her feel the cold for a while, that'll teach her to waste everybody's time. Meanwhile, I still can't get to the pages I need. When are you going to fix that?"

Mareva looked up, into the face of her most valued customer.

"Auctioneer Fanin. I have given your problem all my attention. Because you have not seen fit to inform me which particular pages you were trying to access, it has become necessary for me to access the logs of the pages you _have_ been able to access before now. I have found nothing wrong with your connection." She scowled. "However, the relevance of most of these pages to your office puzzles me. Would you like to go over this list with me now, so that we can trouble-shoot them individually?" She pulled a few papers out of her toolbox. "I have the list right here."

"That... is privileged, private information!"

"Indeed. Fortunately, I am privileged enough to access it. I see successful attempts to access the auctioneers' page. I also see a great many attempts to access images that do not exist anymore for some reason. I suspect they have been removed from the system, so I cannot retrieve them for you, though the names of these images show a trend. The words 'young' and 'juicy' feature prominently in them." Mareva's eyes narrowed. "I really could have done without finding out about your taste in women, Auctioneer Fanin."

Fanin opened his mouth, then closed it again, staring at this, this, _woman_ in abject horror.

"Get lost," said Mareva.

Fanin turned round and made a hasty retreat. Mareva shook her head, and walked into Mhaari's cabin, papers in hand.

"Hello dear," said Mhaari. "I saw you talking to that nice man again. Did he give you a hard time?"

"Yes," said Mareva, "but I think this has been the last time."

She put down the papers on Mhaari's table and accepted her cup.

"I've pulled up a list of people from your village who are on board. Would you like to see which ones of them you know?"

"Oh my..." Mhaari looked at the list of names, reading. "Do the Naaru even know the people in my village?"

"Well, they asked you for your name and where you lived, no? This is a list of everybody on board who used to live in Lower City.

Mhaari suddenly stopped, pointed at a name.

"I know her! She used to live, oh, five houses away from me."

"Great!" said Mareva. "Let's go look her up. She's in a cabin on the other end of the Hall of Lights."

Mhaari frowned. "Can't stand the sight of her. Interfering, gossiping busybody. I have a feeling she was after my husband."

Mareva's face fell. Mhaari smiled at her, patted her hand.

"It's very sweet of you to go through all those papers. I do appreciate it, really. Thank you."

"Well, is there anyone on that list that you do not wish to punch?"

Mhaari laughed. "Oh sweetie. Punches leave wounds and bruises where you can see them. The right word in the right place, and they'll not bother you again." She picked up the list, looking at names. "I think I have said everything to these people that I want to."

Mareva said nothing, looked into Mhaari's eyes. Mhaari looked back.

"Yes, dearie. I know. Just a few more weeks, or a few months, and I'll leave. Maybe I'll see him back." She looked at the wall. "Sometimes, I think I can see him already. People think I'm going mad." She put her delicate earthenware cup back on the saucer. "I find it hard to disagree with them sometimes."

"Farseer Nobundo told me," said Mareva.

"Oh, that devil-worshipper? He used to know my husband. Before he, well, changed. Imagine _him_ talking about me. Gives me the shivers."

Mareva did not trust her voice, so she said nothing.

"Twenty five hundred years," said Mhaari. "Give or take a decade or two. When you get to be this old, you won't care. I have nothing to complain about. I have done what I wanted. I have loved, been loved." Her eyes flashed at Mareva. "I've hated, too, and you'd better believe that I've _been_ hated. You're nobody until you have one great love and one arch-enemy. Well, she's welcome to the world. I am leaving."

"Have you seen a healer?"

"Oh yes. Such a nice young man. But he can't do a thing about it." Mhaari raised an arm, and waved it back and forth, showing the empty skin. "Don't worry. This is part of the disease. There's no reason you couldn't live to be as old as I am, and still look as beautiful as you do now. But the Light never intended this disease to be cured. At least not before my time is up."

"Are you in any pain?"

Mhaari shook her head, smiling. "I'm quite comfortable. Not as quick as I used to be. Not a bad way to go, really. I can't digest food as well as I used to. I'm starving without hunger." Suddenly, she stuck out a hand and poked Mareva in the ribs. "Enough about me. How about you? My goodness. I don't even know if you're married!"

"Well, I'm seeing someone." Mareva laughed quietly. "Actually, I'm _seeing_ lots of people. It's this club I've joined. But Viral is special."

Mhaari simply smiled, and said nothing, and waited for Mareva to keep talking.

"He's... great. Just being with him, I feel better. I deal with zlotniks like our Auctioneer Fanin every day, all day. And then I walk into his cabin, and try as I might, I can't remember why I am so annoyed."

"Have you known him long?"

"Met him here, on Exodar." Mareva looked at her empty teacup. Her eyes looked in the distance. "Almost got him killed, actually. If it hadn't been for Farseer Nobundo, we'd be toast."

Mhaari's mouth tightened. "Vindicator Nobundo. A very rude man even before he turned away from the Light. I can't imagine what he's like now."

Mareva wasn't quite listening, recalling their mad dash to the Seat of the Naaru. She chuckled. Their first date. "He's teaching me about the Elements. I've only heard the Elemental Spirit of Air once, but I'm learning spells that tap into Elemental powers. A bit disrespectful, really. We try not to inconvenience them too much."

"Are you taking _lessons_ from that man?"

Mareva smiled. "Yes. He is really very kind."

"What possible good can come of that? You'd be better off concentrating on the Light, like decent people."

Mareva looked up, only now noticing the sharp edge that had crept into Mhaari's voice.

"What?"

Mhaari sniffed. "Unbelievable. They let him on board from the kindness of their hearts, and the first thing he does is try to turn more people to these fel magics."

Mareva frowned. "They are not fel magics! They are the spirits of all things that are... are!"

"Well, I'm sure that's how it starts. Honestly. You'd be better off concentrating on the Naaru for a while. Do you good."

Mareva blinked. "Oh d-- O'ros asked me to come down to him..." she looked at the clock. "Three minutes from now! I have to leave!"

"Well, don't let me keep you away from the Naaru, dear." 

* * *

"Damn!"

Viral looked at Mareva, standing in front of the scoreboard in the Deviants' club house.

"What's up?"

"She's gained another point. And I thought I had a good lead on her. Only four points ahead now."

"Oh... Debaar. Hmm."

Mareva slowly looked round at her beloved, sizing him up for lightning bolts.

"Don't say you..."

"Fraid so. Sorry, Mareva. She's good. Didn't have a reason to refuse her, and she worked for those points."

"Huh. Well, you know what this means, don't you?"

"Oh no..."

"Oh yes. If you need me, I'll be in the Traders' Tier. Don't wait up for me." 

* * *

Mareva sprinted through the Hall of Lights, towards one of the living areas, hooves clunking on the transparent bridge. How someone had thought to tell her, she really didn't know. In the distance, she could hear the commotion.

"Let him out! Let him _out_! I know you've got him in there! Let him _out!_ "

Mhaari was throwing herself against one of the doors, beating on it with her fists, screaming. Two Peacekeepers were standing behind her, unsure whether to grab her or not. She looked fragile enough to break under their fingers.

Mareva ran up, grabbed Mhaari's fists before she could hurt herself. Then she wrapped her arms round the small, bird-like form and held her to her.

"Easy, Mhaari. Shh..."

"That woman has him! I'm sure of it! Get him out!"

"Mhaari." Mareva put a hand on her face, and looked into her eyes. "Mhaari. It's not the right house. He is not here."

Mhaari looked at her, lips trembling.

"He's not?"

"He's in Shattrath, don't you remember?" Mareva looked Mhaari up and down. "Oh, he would kick my butt if he saw the state I've let you get into. Come. I'll take you home."

"Oh..." Mhaari blinked. "Oh... yes. Shattrath."

She leant on Mareva. Hardly any weight at all. One of the peacekeepers, a woman, tapped her shoulder.

"Will you be alright, Ma'am?"

Mareva nodded, looked at Mhaari. She put a strong arm round her shoulders and almost carried her home, put her to bed.

"How many bags to a pot?"

"Just one, dear. It's very strong."

"Right. Tea coming up."

Mhaari put her hands in front of her face, bent down.

"Oh my goodness, I've made such a fool out of myself." 

* * *

"She called you a devil worshipper."

Farseer Nobundo shrugged. "Been called worse. By people who should know better than she. She does not have all facts."

"Nor all faculties. Poor woman. Most of the time, she's alright. And then suddenly..."

"She sick. You do well to visit her. Makes her feel good."

"Don't know. She doesn't seem to approve of Shamanism." A little smile appeared on her face. "Seems to be fine with the Deviants, though. She asked me how I was doing. Didn't know what to say, really."

"Heh. You think old people become virgins again? Lose interest, perhaps? Forget what was like?"

"Well... no. But..."

Nobundo chuckled. "Twenty-five centuries of experience there. Remember her husband come in tired now and then. We all jealous."

Mareva's cheeks flushed.

"Anyway... I don't discuss religion with her. Or magic."

"Probably good. Not for casual chat. Old Mhaari not the only one who not like Shaman. Especially not Krokul Shaman."

"That's stupid. The way of the Elements is worth walking. I can do so much more now than I could when I still thought I was a sucky mage. I can heal. I can make people stronger. Protect them. Even if I could, I would not wish to be different."

"People are ignorant," said Nobundo. "They have not been told. Or if they have, they not believe. Cure is to tell them. Be kind to them. Show them that those who follow the Elements can be their friends. Not shove down their throats, mind. Can go down wrong way."

Mareva nodded, saying nothing.

"And then, people are stupid. Will not learn. Cannot understand. Too convinced they are right to change. No cure for that. Poke them with a sharp stick. Find better people." 

* * *

She tapped in the code to Viral's room. The door opened. She walked in and turned the light up. Viral's head snapped round to her, a startled look on his face. The young lady with him snarled.

"Get lost!"

Mareva's eyes bored into hers. As soon as the girl saw the expression on Mareva's face, she lay perfectly still. Her chest rose and fell in nervous breaths.

"You a member?"

The girl nodded.

"Give me your book."

With trembling fingers, she reached into the pocket of her skirt on the floor, pulled out her book and handed it to Mareva. Mareva wrote a few words, then handed back the book. The girl looked. Mareva. Three points. Best ever. Recommend for style points. Her mouth fell open.

"I... I have to counter-sign."

Mareva handed over hers, and the girl wrote, then gave back the little book. Mareva didn't even look.

"Good. Get dressed. Make something up. I'll counter-sign at the next meeting. Now get lost."

The girl scowled at her, pulled on her blouse and skirt. She walked to the door, and turned round, looking at Viral. She pointed at her eye, then at him. Viral nodded, and she was gone.

"What is the matter, Mareva?"

Mareva lay down on the bed, head on his chest, took a deep breath and burst into tears. Wailed, howled, tears streaming from her. Not a word came out of her as she lay there in Viral's arms. Finally, she became quiet. Viral still had her in his arms, him fully naked, she fully clothed. He put his finger under her chin. She looked terrible, dark spots on her face, wet with tears and snot, sobbing quietly.

"Viral. When I die, nobody will call me Mad Old Mareva. I will not run round thinking all my dead friends have just walked down the merchant. I will not allow that to happen."

Viral closed his eyes for a moment.

"Your friend. She has died."

Mareva wiped her hand over her face. It didn't help. She nodded.

"Somebody heard her screaming for the Light only knows who. Maybe her husband. I don't know. They sent for me. When I arrived, she was gone." She bared her teeth. "And everybody said it was all for the best. Bastards!"

She laid down her head on Viral's chest.

"I will not allow it." 

* * *

It was a small ceremony. There was a priest, Mareva, Viral, and Farseer Nobundo. The priest led a few prayers, and then they watched the simple coffin slide down into the incinerator.

"Travel well, my friend," said Nobundo.

Mareva looked at him. She had brought plenty of handkerchiefs, but for some reason, her eyes were dry.

"Did you know her well?"

"Loved her," said Nobundo. "Not like large fire, cannot live without her. But she was a friend. When I have problems, I go to her, talk, feel better. She the same with me."

"She said you were a very rude man."

Nobundo's eyes lit up. "She right. Was very rude to her. She was quite right to slap my face. But had to ask. Nobody came before her husband." He looked into Mareva's eyes. "When you find someone like that. Maybe your big friend there. Maybe someone else."

Nobundo looked at the hole in the wall where the coffin had disappeared.

"Taste every moment as though could be last." 

* * *

Copyright: © 2008,2009,2010 Menno Willemse. All rights reserved.


	6. Part 6: Forfeit - THE STRANGE LAST DAYS OF THE GOOD SHIP EXODAR

# THE STRANGE LAST DAYS OF THE GOOD SHIP EXODAR

## Part 6: Forfeit

* * *

 

The door-chime sounded. Mareva looked up from her spec sheet, frowned. It wasn't playtime yet. Deviants all over Exodar would be getting ready for a busy night's depravity. Viral had said he would be pursuing two rather promising females of the Deviants, so it couldn't be him either. She swung her hooves down from the small table, jumped up. Knowing Viral, he'd succeed too. Honey in his voice, magic in his eyes. And, thought Mareva, as she walked to the door, in his fingers too. She touched the dark square on the door, and it slid open. A large man stood before her, dressed in sombre black robes, a staff in his hand.

"Long life, good health. I am Gur'dan of the Huttite Zealots. Are you Engineer Mareva, Deviant of Exodar?"

Mareva blinked. She nodded her horned head.

"I am. How may I help you?"

The large male inclined his head, then looked aside at his companions.

"Bring forth the penitent."

The large man stepped aside. Two more males stepped forward, their hands on the shoulders of a girl. She looked small. Draenei girls are usually a lot smaller than the males, but this girl seemed to have shrunk even more than normal. She had light brown hair, cute side-swept horns and was dressed in a simple white robe. Her eyes were firmly fixed on the floor just in front of her feet.

"See here this woman," intoned Gur'dan. "She has committed the transgression of finishing the meat before the fruits, upon the second day, which is an abomination unto Hut."

"Praise be to Hut," said the others.

"Praise be," said Gur'dan. "It has been ordained that she be taken to one of the Deviants, not of her own preference, for her to do with as she pleases, until the sounding of the morning alarm. Thus, through suffering and humiliation, shall her transgression be erased and may she resume her station with the screen wiped clean."

Gur'dan bowed his large head towards Mareva.

"Will you be the executioner of this woman's penitence?"

Mareva had to suppress a smile, looking at the young girl. The Zealots were one of the clubs on board Exodar that had sprung up when it became clear that the trip would take no less than a year. There were the scientists, the chess players, the mathematicians. The Zealots invented vengeful deities, and their priests issued commandments by the score. The more trivial, the better, and if the commandments contradicted each other, it became a matter of choosing which commandment to break, and hoping not to be caught.

Mareva had chosen the Deviants. The Deviants prided themselves on not leaving a sexual depravity untried, no pleasure of the flesh untasted. They would meet regularly to enjoy each other's bodies, and awarded each other points based on performance. Upon learning of this, one of the High Priests had come up with the marvellous idea of throwing offenders to them. Sampling someone outside the Deviants automatically awarded maximum points, with the added chance of style points if you persuaded them to join, so the Deviants had made no protest.

Mareva looked at the girl placed in front of her, then up at the large man. Oh well. She didn't have any hot prospects this evening, so to have this girl, and three points, dropped into her lap, was an unexpected stroke of luck.

"I accept this responsibility Gur'dan, Zealot of Hut."

"Praise be to Hut," spoke the males. The girl remained silent.

The two men holding the girl's shoulders took away their hands. Mareva took a step back, and pointed her hand inside. The girl swallowed, and stepped into Mareva's cabin.

"We charge you not to release her before her atonement is complete, and invite you to make use of her in any way your perverted mind can conceive. Release her after morning alarm, and send the report of her penitence to our High Priest. Such is the command of Hut."

"Praise be to Hut."

Mareva inclined her head to the Huttites, and they made their way to the Seat of the Naaru. The door closed. 

 

Mareva turned round to the girl, who was standing very still in the middle of her cabin, shoulders sagging, unaware of what tortures awaited her.

"What is your name?"

The girl did not look up. In a very small voice, she whispered.

"Oraya."

Mareva stepped round the girl, facing her.

"Well then, Oraya. My first command to you."

She put her hands on Oraya's shoulders.

"Relax."

Oraya looked up at Mareva, who was smiling at her. She half opened her mouth to ask a question, then closed it again.

"I will not do anything to you that you do not want me to. We Deviants do not have many rules, but one stands above all others. Consent. We do nothing to anyone, unless they give permission. Even half-way through, you can change your mind. A single word is enough." Mareva smiled. "It costs you points, of course, but we will not force anyone into acts that they do not wish for."

Oraya's eyes widened. "But... I have heard the stories read out. The... humiliation. The unnatural acts! The suffering!"

"Hmm. Yes. I'd better get on with that." Mareva sat down on her chair, pulled out her writing tools and opened a new leaf. "How serious was your offence?"

"What? You are going to make up a story?"

"Mmm-hmm. How gruesome do you wish it to be?"

"But... Won't they know?"

Mareva laughed. "Of course they know. As long as I do not make it physically impossible, they will accept anything I write. Our First made this quite clear to the main Zealot." Mareva chuckled. "I remember one story where they amputated a girl's tail. They accepted the story without comment, even though the girl reappeared with her tail as beautiful as ever it was. They explained it as a miracle sent by Hut."

"Praise be to Hut," said Oraya quickly.

"Hut," said Mareva, a grin on her face.

Oraya looked at her accusingly. "Praise. Be. To. Hut."

Mareva laughed, looked at the ceiling for a moment for inspiration, and began to write. Her eyes flashed at Oraya for a moment.

"I feel I must dominate you to some small extent." She pointed at the corner of the room. "Two scoops. No sugar."

"Yes, Executioner," said Oraya.

"And have one yourself as well."

Oraya filled the kettle from the tap, and scooped dark Draenor coffee into two mugs. She looked round.

"Do you have any milk?"

"Now that is blasphemy," said Mareva. "Sugar is allowed, for it gives a burst of energy. But allowing the Holy Liquid to be desecrated with the outpourings of Elekks, is simply beyond imagining."

Oraya looked at Mareva. "I didn't know that coffee was holy to the Deviants."

"It is not. When I am not reducing people to little heaps of pleasure, I am an engineer. We take our beverages seriously."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Don't be. I have just suspended you from the ceiling by your tail, and am forcing you to pleasure me with hands and mouth. Your pretty horns are most convenient in directing your efforts."

Oraya's mouth fell open. "By the Light! Can you really do that?"

"Oh yes. Quite possible." Mareva smiled. "Even cute tails like yours are easily strong enough to carry your weight."

"How?"

Mareva looked round, and picked up a rope she used as a belt for her red silk dressing gown.

"Give me your arm for a moment. Or your tail. Whichever you prefer."

Oraya held out her arm, and Mareva proceeded to tie a series of half-hitches round it, encasing Oraya's arm in loops of dark silk.

"Pull."

As Oraya pulled, the rope tightened round her arm, without slipping. Mareva returned to her writing as Oraya untied the rope.

"Have you ever done that?"

"Mm-hm."

"Doesn't it hurt?"

Mareva shook her head. "No. If you stay up for too long, your tail goes to sleep, but that's it." She grinned. "You are supposed to pretend that it is extreme torture. So swinging back and forth shouting 'Whoopee!' probably cost me some points. Worth it, though."

Oraya smiled, then burst out laughing. The girl did have a nice laugh. Mareva deleted a few words and replaced them with a single word.

"Mind you. If you tie up the tail to be bent, even to break, then it is extremely painful, and can even lead to paralysis. Needless to say, no Deviant would do such a thing." 

 

The kettle came to the boil. Oraya filled both their mugs and stirred. She picked up Mareva's cup between her hands, stood before her, inclined her head. Then, she took a small sip from Mareva's cup and placed it on the table in front of her. Mareva raised her eyebrows.

"Why are you drinking my coffee?"

Oraya closed her eyes.

"And it came to be that certain of the Enemy crossed the unending desert, and came upon the tents of the prophet Zamfir, as he played his pipes in the late afternoon. As proscribed by the Laws, he ordered his servants to pour out tea, for even the Enemy may not be denied a drink and a bite to eat, after crossing the desert. And as they drank therefrom, they were struck by great convulsions, and they died, but for the First of the Enemy, who had not drunk yet, as he was speaking words of thanks to the Prophet. He was wroth, and accused the Prophet loudly of poisoning his men. The prophet Zamfir, being innocent of this crime, then took up each of the enemies' cups, and took a small sip therefrom, and lo! No convulsions came upon him. Yet, as the First of the enemies sipped from his cup, he too was struck by the death that had visited his men, and so the Enemy was defeated, by the will of Great Hut."

Mareva nodded. "I see."

Oraya opened her eyes. "If you were a Zealot, I'd have you now. You're supposed to say 'Praise be to Hut'."

Mareva grinned. "Would you throw me to the Deviants?"

"Why? You'd just enjoy it."

"True. I am certainly enjoying your attentions at this moment."

Oraya tilted her head slightly, trying to read over Mareva's shoulder.

"Do you only like girls?"

Mareva's eyes turned up from her rather steamy report to the girl she had sworn to ravish.

"Actually, I prefer boys, though I would not refuse a girl simply for having a smaller tail. It depends on my mood. Also, there are points to be earned, and I will not be defeated by that bitch Debaar at the helm. You?"

"I've never done it with a girl. Never wanted to, either." She gave Mareva a little smile. "Sorry."

"Don't be. You should climb into bed only with the people you really desire. Otherwise, neither of you will be pleased." She looked at Oraya. "You would never have pleased me if I had made you. Your liver has to be in it, or the magic fails."

"Hold on. Am I not hanging from my tail right now, using my hands and mouth to please you?"

"That is not sex," said Mareva. "It is domination. Which is an entirely different thing. Depraved we may be, but not cruel. You can refuse anything put to you."

"Hm. You don't look like you'd refuse much, if you don't mind me saying. Anything you won't do?"

"Pain," said Mareva. "Pain is for enemies, not for lovers." She leant back in her chair. "I mean, a slap on the bottom, in the throes of passion, not a problem. But trying to turn my cheeks purple? That will get you thrown out into the corridor. And your clothes mailed to you."

Oraya laughed. "Oh I like that. I must remember that when I get back to my boyfriend."

"You have a boyfriend? Does he know you're here? I can write him a note saying what really happened if you want."

"You've met him. He stuck me here."

Mareva's eyebrows raised. "Gur'dan? He threw you to me? I can see lonely nights in his future."

"Oh rest assured. I will not allow him anywhere near my tail for at least ten days. Still. It was a fair move. I did finish the meat before the fruit. If he had not denounced me, I would have denounced him."

"Hmm." Mareva added a few lines to her report. "I have now made you feed me energy bars while completely naked. We must make him feel as guilty as we can."

"That doesn't sound too bad."

"Guess where you were holding the energy bar."

Oraya stared.

"Ew."

"Precisely."

"Do people really do that?"

Mareva laughed. "Silly games. Eating things off your lover. It can be fun, but if you are looking to sample more than one person per night, it takes too long."

Mareva looked her report over once more, then got up and pointed Oraya at her chair.

"There. See what you think."

Oraya sat down as Mareva leaned against the cabin wall, sipping coffee, watching the penitent. As she read, her lips parted, her cheeks flushed a very nice purple, and she put her hand in front of her mouth. She looked up at Mareva, her pretty face the colour of skethyl-berries.

"I think you misspelt 'nipple' once." She took a deep breath. "You are really, really sick."

"Oh come on. This is nothing. There were no males in the room."

"Each day is a blessing," said Oraya. "So now what?"

"We have more coffee. Or I can probably find a bottle of Qrovna, if you prefer. Unless that is against the wishes of Hut."

"Praise be to Hut," said Oraya automatically. "No, strangely it isn't. Imagine that."

"Are some of the Huttites engineers?"

"I think so."

"That explains it," said Mareva, looking in a cupboard. "Get between an engineer and his liquid recovery, and there will be serious trouble. Beware the wrath of an engineer, for they can make your life hell by doing nothing."

"Oh, I'm in your chair. Sorry. Hey. Why do you have only one chair? I'm sure you can get another one if you ask."

Mareva emerged from her cupboard, a dull shining bottle in one hand, cups in the other. A broad grin was on her face.

"I do not wish my guests to sit down with me. Hold the cups please."

Oraya held the cups and Mareva filled them with a foul-smelling liquid. She handed one of them to Mareva.

"Skol!"

Together, they tilted back the cups and poured the liquor down their throats, almost managing to miss all of their taste-buds. Mareva blinked at Oraya, who didn't cough at all.

"You're not as innocent as you look!"

"Just because I haven't pushed a girl's tail before doesn't mean I'm a virgin."

"So I see. Another one?"

"Please."

Another shot of the liquor followed the first. Mareva felt the warm glow spread through her body, and her brain felt like it was carefully, lovingly, wrapped in cotton wool inside her skull. It would put a serious crimp in her stamina for the rest of the evening, but who cares? She wasn't going to do anything with this girl, and she'd probably earned a quiet evening at some point. Also, she was getting three points for this no matter what. Which was nice.

"You have the chair," said Oraya, sitting down on the floor, playing with the empty cup in her hand.

"I can do better than that," said Mareva.

She touched a blue rectangle on the wall. With a low hum, Mareva's luxurious double bed rolled out of the wall and stopped just in front of Oraya's hooves.

"Oh my. That's smooth. You must have so many points!"

"Not doing too badly," said Mareva, lying down on the bed. "Though I'll never pass Lorelei, bless her. If she wins, I will not grudge her. She's lovely."

"Oh, the Captain's yeoman? I didn't know she was a Deviant! She looks so young!"

"She does, doesn't she? Mutual three points. Was useless the rest of the evening. Everybody she's sampled loves her." Mareva lifted her head. "And rightly so."

"Wouldn't know what to do with her," said Oraya. "I'll take your word for it."

Mareva looked up at Oraya. "My goodness... It isn't higher arcane magic, you know? You cuddle up to her and let your fingers go where they will. If she sounds happy, keep doing what you're doing. If not, find another bit of skin."

"Oh come on. There's more to it than that and you know it."

"Practice. Plenty of practice." 

 

Mareva closed her eyes. Oraya looked at the clock above the bed.

"Still eight hours to go before morning alarm. Am I not keeping you from important things?"

Mareva smiled, without opening her eyes. "You have just handed me three points, for the effort of writing an inspired piece of smut. If you hadn't, I would probably have been reduced to prowling the traders' tier for people who I have not sampled yet."

"Would you really have done all those things with me?"

"No. You would not have enjoyed it. I like to see happy faces on my lovers. Feeding you coffee and Qrovna worked better." She sat up. "What are you doing in the Zealots, anyway? It doesn't sound like all that much fun, having to submit yourself to all kinds of rules and penances."

Oraya grinned. "Oh, but if you manage to keep out of trouble, eventually, you get to make up your own rules for everybody else. I will actually gain a few ranks from tonight, for enduring my ordeal without complaint."

"My pleasure," murmured Mareva.

"I really would have done anything you'd have asked of me, you know? Just for the satisfaction of twisting one of the rules and watching them all squirm trying to keep it."

"Now, you tell me."

Oraya leaned back against the cool wall of Mareva's cabin, looking in the middle distance.

"The best stunt I ever pulled off was when I set up a dinner party with two Huttites and three Gorrites. Gorrites worship Gor."

"Praise be to Gor," said Mareva.

"Nono. Gor is a false deity, obviously. For there are no other true gods than Hut, praised be."

"Of course."

"I'd found out that they are not allowed to eat food off forks from their right hand, the blasphemous sods. We, who follow the True Path, are not allowed to eat food off forks in our left. Still, The Gorrites are not so misguided that they do not respect the beliefs of others, just like we do."

"Um, right?"

"So here we were, lovely Emarree in front of us, for which Hut may make us truly grateful. Since we were in their company, we must honour their misguided principles, and hold our forks in the left hand, which is an abomination unto Hut. And they were in a similar pickle."

"So they could just have got up and left, no?"

"Oh no, no no! Because that would mean that food were left uneaten, which is an abhorrent act before the eyes of both Gor and Hut. I had my denunciations on a hair trigger. Because I was the Guest-giver, none of them were allowed to speak before me. Five in one go would have exulted me to Lesser Priestess."

"They could have used spoons," said Mareva.

"Spoons are forks. So speaks Hut, praise be."

"Or their fingers."

"No. Forbidden, if you are in the company of heathens."

Oraya's eyes flashed at Mareva, her body shaking with laughter.

"But one of the Gorrites got them all out of it, bastard. He picked up his fork, in his right hand, and fed me. We spent all evening feeding each other. So my plan came to nothing, but I've never had so much fun."

"Oh you wild creatures," said Mareva. "May I invite you to join the Deviants? Even if you sample only men, I think we can improve on even that."

Oraya smiled. "I think I'll stick to sampling my Gur'dan. Rotter though he is. I'll get him for this."

"When you do, send him to me. I'll see to his atonement." 

 

There was a soft knock on the door. Mareva looked up, a grin on her face. Quietly, quietly, so as not to disturb Oraya, she went to the door, and opened it. She wrapped her arms round the man outside and laid her head on his shoulder.

"Viral. Warm wishes. How was your hunt?"

"A partial success. One of them, I managed to persuade successfully. She was appropriately enthusiastic. The other turned out to be a bit of a disappointment." Viral sneered. "One and two. I think I was even generous to give her that point. Her contribution ended with her taking her clothes off."

"Was she at least nice to look at?"

"She was, but some motility is desirable." He looked over Mareva's shoulder at Oraya's still form on the bed. "I see you did well. She is beautiful."

Mareva smiled. "Zealot penitent. Didn't have to lay a finger on her. Doesn't like girls. Not even curious. She is a lovely girl, though."

"I believe you. Well, since you are alreay occupied, I think I will retire. I don't suppose you could..."

"Sadly, no. I have to release her by morning alarm. I am on late shift though, so I can come over after I do. I want to know what this first girl taught you."

"Nothing much, but she did allow me to practice some of the things I already know."

"Can't wait." 

* * *

Mareva took a step back, and admired her handiwork. Magnificent. An impressive male was on her bed, ankles tied to one end, tail attached to a rope leading to the ceiling. This kept him hovering a half yard over the bed, and left his arms free to do whatever was required of him. Not bad, considering she'd never done this before, and only had it done to her.

"Good. Now wait."

The door chime rang, and the man looked round. Mareva frowned, put her hand on his cheek and pushed his face forward.

"You will look ahead of you unless I command you otherwise. This will be my assistant, who will bring you to proper attention."

"Assistant?!"

"Have I asked you to speak? No. If it displeases you, then you should not have insulted the Gorrites, and brought shame upon the name of Hut."

"Praise be to Hut," said Gur'dan unhappily.

Mareva walked up to the door and opened it, checking over her shoulder if Gur'dan wasn't looking back.

"Have you told him?"

Mareva silently shook her head, and Oraya grinned with boundless glee.

"The release mechanism is in the left corner," said Mareva. "Enjoy yourself. I'll be at Viral's." 

* * *

Copyright: © 2008,2009,2010 Menno Willemse. All rights reserved.


	7. Part 7: Godliness - THE STRANGE LAST DAYS OF THE GOOD SHIP EXODAR

# THE STRANGE LAST DAYS OF THE GOOD SHIP EXODAR

## Part 7: Godliness

* * *

Mareva stepped across the corridor, to Viral's cabin. The red light was off. She pressed the chime, and a few seconds later, he appeared in the door.

"Oh hello. I had a feeling it might be some gorgeous creature to sample, but this is... beyond hope!"

Mareva grinned. "Stop it, you slime. I need your help. I've got a disconsolate Huttite in my cabin. Gur'dan broke up with Oraya!"

"What?" Viral looked at Mareva. "We're talking about the cute brunette right? The one that you'd need chains to pull off that lucky sod of a boyfriend of hers? Has fire gone cold and ice gone hot?"

"Apparently so. Haven't been able to get much out of Oraya, but could you please go and beat some sense into Gur'dan?"

"He's big."

"So are you. I'd be ever so grateful."

"Ooh... magic words. My hooves are like wings. Where is he?"

"Temple of Hut, most likely." 

* * *

Mareva looked at the little heap of misery sitting on her chair in her cabin. She had to do something. Coffee? Sex? Tea? Qrovna? She considered. Tea, probably best. She opened the box that she'd inherited from Old Mhaari, and took out two bags, chucked them into mugs and poured over the boiling water. While she did this, Oraya hadn't moved or said anything. She wasn't even crying anymore. Mareva tapped her shoulder, and put a hot mug of tea in her hand.

"Drink. Pay attention, it's the good stuff."

Oraya nodded, took a small sip. Put the mug down. Said nothing. Mareva raised an eyebrow. Oraya was usually bouncing all over the place. She'd banged on her door, fallen into her arms, blurted out that Gur'dan had left her and burst out in tears.

"What happened?"

Oraya closed her eyes, shook her head.

"Hey, they say you can have the most amazing sex with girls who've just broken up with their boyfriends. And I could use the points. How about it?"

Oraya looked up at Mareva, murder in her eyes.

"Sod you."

Mareva grinned. "Come on. Start talking." She hit the button and her bed came rolling out of the wall. "If you don't, I'll find ways to make you." She sat down on the bed, took Oraya's hand between her own, and looked at her face. "Tell me."

"It's the Zealots," said Oraya. "I love them, really I do. Stupid silly rules. Never a dull moment. Would you believe I'm an Exulted High Priestess now?"

"Oh yes. You are good at it. One of my samples said you'd knocked him back from Lesser Priest to Novice with a single denunciation." Mareva grinned smugly. "I consoled him. Three-pointer."

"Gur'dan is starting to take it... seriously."

"Wait... what? He is really starting to believe in Hut?"

"Prais- Oh sod it. Yes, he is. And he's fanatic about it, too."

Mareva's jaw dropped. "By the Light! The Gnomic Heresy proven before our very eyes!"

Oraya started to laugh, but half-way it turned into a sob. 

"He spends all night in prayer, hours and hours. Gets upset if I disturb him!" She sniffed, took a sip of tea. "You remember that thing I bought? Blue mageweave. Practically see-through."

"You showed it to me," said Mareva. "Without even a hint of taking it off. Cruel woman."

"I showed it to him. He took one look at me, put his hands on my shoulders, and do you know what he said?"

"Take it off?"

"Yes! But not because he wanted me! Because it was blue and it was the First Day!" Oraya took a deep breath. Her eyes blazed with anger. "So I told him what I thought about that, and the bastard denounced me!"

"Oh my..."

Mareva looked at Oraya, young, bright, beautiful, completely and utterly devoted to her boyfriend, which was of course why Mareva flirted with her shamelessly. What a shame that that boyfriend, usually a nice enough guy, had of late gone funny in the head. Oh well.

"Don't worry about him," said Mareva. "Viral is having a chat with him. He's nothing if not persuasive. Ask any girl." 

* * *

"But don't you _see_? It makes such _sense_!"

"Oh come on. You spend two hours listening to the Music of the Spheres, and suddenly, you just _know_ that Great Hut..."

"Praise be."

Viral looked at Gur'dan.

"Yeah. That he wants you to chew your food thirty-two times, no more, no less, before swallowing. Have you any idea how stupid that sounds? Some crackpot deity talking to you through the medium of background radiation?"

"Of course not. That would be silly."

"Oh good. Glad to hear you talk some sense."

"The crackle of the Eternal Voice is only to bring your mind into the state where Great Hut, praise be, can reach into it. It is a meditational technique, nothing more. And through it, we learn."

"Learn what?"

"About the proper way to live." Gur'dan's eyes glowed with joy.

Viral winced. "You mean not picking up a bloody fork in the wrong hand?"

"Yes, yes. That's part of it. These trivial things have a function. They remind us, as we go through our daily doings, to remember who guides us, to whom we belong. Lest we forget. To those who have not tasted the joy, it may look silly sometimes, but we know better. Using these techniques, we are constantly reminded of who guides us. And changing them now and again keeps us sharp. Focused on the Glory of Hut."

"Praise be," said Viral, shaking his head. "Come on, Gur'dan. Your girlfriend is in _my_ girlfriend's cabin, and Mareva is doing what she can to console her. I don't know what you said to her, but..."

Gur'dan sighed. His eyes turned down to his hooves. "I did not want to denounce her, but she was blatantly flaunting her colours in front of me. I had to. A commandment for one is a commandment for all. I pray that she may forgive me, and be forgiven."

"Eh?" Viral opened his eyes wide. "Hold on. Even I know about that night-shirt, because Mareva described it to me. So she was standing in front of you wearing _that_ , and all you can think of is that it's the wrong bloody _colour_? I give up. There's no hope for you."

Gur'dan stared in front of him, sighed.

"When you see her, tell her that my prayers are with her, that she may see."

"Do you have a bloody death wish?" 

* * *

"So what does make you think that this Hut really exists?"

"Oh Mareva. What makes you _not_ see? In every colour, every shape, every spoken word, the hand of Hut is plain to see."

"No it is not. This Hut, he signs his work, no? So show me the signature and I'll believe you."

Gur'dan laughed. "Do you expect the Creator and All-Father to use our alphabet perhaps? That is what faith _means_. To know without seeing. To see, not with your eyes, but with your very spirit."

Mareva gave Gur'dan a Look.

"And how do you distinguish this marvellous spirit-sight from common or garden delusions?"

"The same might be said for anything. You and your Elemental Spirits. You say the Spirit of Air has spoken to you, once. How do you distinguish _that_ from delusions? Still, you know."

Mareva pointed her hand at Gur'dan's coffee mug and shot a lightning bolt at it. Coffee vapours shot up in the air as the mug jumped off the table in molten fragments of metal.

"That's how. The Spirit of Fire may not speak to me personally, but he does allow me to call on his power."

"And how do you know that Hut has not created those spirits for you to call on?"

"Well, I know that because Supreme High Priest Aqaar pulled the whole religion from under his tail! Which he did to entertain and amuse the masses, which is a noble cause, but that doesn't mean that the whole thing isn't complete and utter..."

"How do you know that? His Holiness Aqaar's motivations are unknown to me, so I would be rash to comment on them."

Mareva's eyes narrowed.

"Right. Don't move." 

* * *

Supreme High Priest Aqaar came out of Gur'dan's cabin. His face was a very deep purple, and steam came out of his ears. Mareva and Viral watched with interest as he took a deep breath, shook his head and came towards them. Aqaar was a gentle man, portly of figure, with a razor-sharp mind, and usually, an indestructible good humour. In accordance with his newly-acquired faith, he was wearing blue and yellow striped trousers, a lime-green shirt with pink spots, and a black hat. Thus might he be attired in the right colours at all times, in accordance with the commandments of Great Hut, praise be. He looked at Viral, then at Mareva, over the rims of his dark blue sunglasses.

"Mad," vouchsafed Aqaar. "Completely, utterly bonkers. Here I am, trying to make this deity so silly, so preposterous, that no sane man would actually believe in him, so as not to insult any who truly believe, and by the Light! Nature mocks me by producing a more advanced form of insanity!"

Aqaar took off his hat, and rubbed his head.

"He is absolutely, and utterly convinced that Hut is real."

"Praise be to Hut," said Viral.

"Very funny," said Aqaar. "So I try to explain this to him. Talk some sense into him. It's just a game, I tell him." Aqaar raised his fists into the air. "He thanks me for testing his faith! I'm not testing your faith, you zlotnik, I'm telling you you're a few components short of a circuit board!"

From his pocket, Aqaar produced a red handkerchief with black stripes. Mareva blinked. When she looked at a blank piece of wall, she thought she could see after-images left by Aqaar on her retina. Aqaar thankfully put away his handkerchief.

"So. I explain to him where I got the name 'Hut' from. Actually, I was running along with some soldiers, and the Sarge is shouting out orders. You! Go there! And the soldier shouts 'Hut!' and goes there. Then, you! Guard that entrance! You! shoot that man, he annoys me! And they go 'Hut! Hut!' And it occurs to me that it's almost like a short religious observance. And thus we have great Hut."

"Praise," said Viral.

"You're not a Believer, so shut up," said Aqaar. "So I explain this to him. Guess what he said? Go on."

Mareva shrugged, and shook her head.

"He says, and they all survived, didn't they? And then he just sits there grinning at me." Aqaar took a deep breath. "I give up. He needs a real priest. A sodding head priest!"

Aqaar turned round. "I'm going to the airlock, to meditate. It's usually nice and quiet there. And then I'll call someone on the Intercom, and if I hear the words 'Praise be to Hut', I'll bloody well open the outer door!"

Aqaar turned round and stomped off.

"Oh Merciful Light," said Mareva. "Now what?"

"Well, let him stew for a few days. At some point, he's going to miss Oraya, and then he'll see the Light." 

* * *

"Come along, Oraya. Sitting here sulking isn't going to help anyone."

"You go. I don't want to."

"Oh come on. They're really very good. Besides, your emotional aura is polluting my cabin. People come in and are overcome with a sense of the futility of it all and I don't get any points."

"That's a load of transgoto and you know it."

"Look. Cheer up. Gur'dan will come round, see what an arse he's been, grovel before you and you can jump on his bones. You're the best thing that ever happened to him in his life. He's not going to forget that just because he's caught a hit of the stupid stick."

"Seriously. I don't want to go to this concert and watch you and Viral all cuddled up."

Mareva put her hands on Oraya's shoulders and looked into her eyes.

"For you, _only_ for you, mind, I will try to keep my fingers off Viral for the _whole_ of the concert."

Oraya's eyes shone at her. Then, from the depths of her soul, a tiny little laugh bubbled up and broke the surface.

"You'd do that for _me_?"

Mareva grinned.

"You can even sit between us."

Oraya frowned. "And no feeling _me_ up, either!"

"Aww..." 

* * *

The Exodar Starlight Singers took the stage, assisted by a string quartet. How anyone, in the confusion of the battle and the run to Exodar, had managed to get a cello and three violins on board was a mystery, but it was very welcome. Some enterprising artificers had also made a harp, and some drums, but for this concert, those were not needed.

Mareva glanced at Oraya as she sat next to her, listening. Her face looked, if not happy, then peaceful, and her eyes had regained some of their usual sparkle. Despite her promise, Mareva had her arm round Oraya's shoulders. Viral sat on Oraya's other side, and occasionally ran a finger over Mareva's arm, which she ignored as best she could. 

 

"I liked that last song," said Oraya. "Carry me safe to land?"

"They weren't singing it right," said Mareva.

"Sounded alright to me," said Viral.

"Oh, there wasn't a note out of place, and they have good voices, but still, they weren't singing it right. Not their fault. You'd have to make an entire choir of spacers. And then, you'd know what I mean."

As they headed for Mareva's cabin, Oraya suddenly looked over her shoulder, then resolutely straight ahead of her, just in front of her feet. Viral looked.

"It's him," whispered Viral in Mareva's ear.

Mareva sneered. "Good. Let him see that his girlfriend is having a good time."

"Not deaf, you know?" Oraya took a breath.

They arrived at Mareva's cabin. Mareva tapped in the code, and the door opened. Mareva pointed inside.

"You know how to put out the bed, yes?"

"Aren't you coming in?"

"No. I have been a good girl. I have kept my fingers away from your transgoto. I am going with Viral, and make perverse and lewd suggestions to him."

Oraya put her arms round Mareva and hugged her.

"Thank you for tonight," she whispered.

"Unless you want to join us," said Mareva.

Oraya slapped Mareva's bottom, gave her a Look and went inside. 

* * *

"Look, she's a lovely girl, and she's welcome to stay as long as she wants. But I can't invite people into my bed with her in it. She's not a member. And I can't just turf her out as and when. Spoils the moment. So I'm reduced to going to their place all the time. Which cramps my style no end."

"Hey, you still get the points don't you?"

"Well yeah, but it's hard work. I think I'll go and have another talk with Gur'dan. See if he's growing any sense yet." 

 

Mareva walked up to the door and pressed the chime. Nothing happened for at least thirty seconds. She pressed the chime again. Nothing. She rubbed her cheek with her fingers. This was worrying. She frowned, hesitated a moment. She wasn't really suposed to use this unless in dire emergencies, but who knows? he might be lying unconscious on the floor from too much fasting or something. She frowned, tapped in a special eight-figure code only told to Engineers. The door opened, and she stepped in.

Gur'dan was sitting in the middle of the room, chest bare, thankfully wearing his trousers, legs crossed, hands on his knees, a beatific expression on his face, gently humming to himself. Mareva looked round the room. Well, at least he wasn't starving. A bowl was on the table, and bags of Emarree were neatly arranged, in alternating colours.

"Mareva." Gur'dan opened his eyes.

"Gur'dan."

"I saw you without seeing." He looked down. "Oh. Pardon my attire, or the lack of it. But I wanted to see if I could meditate upon the Wisdom of Hut for two days at a stretch, with only the interruptions needed to sustain the body. So I could not wear a shirt, because it would go out of alignment half-way through, interrupting me."

Gur'dan glanced at the clock, and an expression of pure joy appeared on his face.

"And I've _done_ it! Oh Mareva! I've done it!" His face fell. "If only Oraya could have been here to share this moment with me."

"You've been sitting here? Meditating? For forty-eight hours?"

"Fifty-one, actually, not counting pauses for the filling and the emptying of the bowels. For the Mind cannot be turned wholly to the Glory of Hut if the body is in distress."

" _Fifty-one hours?_ "

"Yes! Praise be! I have done it! Oh, I must tell Supreme High Priest Aqaar!"

Mareva rolled her eyes. "Entertaining though it may be to watch Aqaar try to override the safety protocols on the airlock, I think this has gone far enough now. Put a shirt on, will you?"

"Yes. Yes, of course! I must tell my Brothers and Sisters at the Temple!"

"You do that," said Mareva, weakly. maybe one of _them_ would be able to convince Gur'dan what an idiot he was. 

* * *

"Well, that's that," said the doctor. "You are as healthy as a Draenei girl can be."

"Must be my diet," said Mareva. "I eat only the healthiest of Emarree."

"Well, exceedingly dull they may be, but I have to admit that they really do contain all the nutrients needed to sustain healthy limb and bone. Incredible. Well, my dear, it's decision time again. Do you wish to be a mummy at some point in the next year, or not?"

Mareva stared at nothing for a while. It was a bit of a bad time for this particular decision, really. Last year, the answer had been a convinced no. The thought of her getting pregnant with a war on, had been absurd even to contemplate. There hadn't been anyone that she wanted to get pregnant _with_ anyway. This year, however... There was someone else who might have an opinion on the matter. She hadn't asked him. It might upset him, at this early stage. Should she have? The contraceptive spell lasted a year. After that, if she did nothing, her fertility would slowly return. She sighed. Their future on Azeroth wasn't certain. Not certain at all. For all she knew, he might just say goodbye to her there. It's been fun, see you around. Git. If he wanted to get her pregnant, he'd just have to wait a bit.

"I think, not this year, Doctor."

"Very well. Close your eyes."

Mareva did, and felt one of the doctor's hands on her forehead, the other on her stomach. Magic flowed, starting slowly, then increasing in intensity. She concentrated on her breath.

"There. All done."

Mareva nodded. Just as last year, there was a brief pang of regret, as she was now a barren woman for another year. She smiled.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Is that all?"

"I think so. Well... actually. I have a friend."

The doctor raised an eyebrow. "Male or female?"

"Male. Why?"

"No particular reason. What is the problem?"

"He's caught a bad case of religion."

The doctor laughed. "I do have pills against that, but they have regrettably fatal side-effects."

"Yeah. He's a Huttite."

"That's nothing to worry about. An innocent game."

"It is not a game to him. He has just spent two whole days and nights in meditation."

"I see. Without food or drink?"

"No. He has kept himself quite well. But still, this cannot be healthy. Can't you do something?"

"Not really, no. Priestesses of the Light sometimes spend whole weeks in meditation. From a medical standpoint, I would much rather they didn't, but people do other things that are much more demanding on the system."

"But this is Hut we're talking about. It's a silly game, and he looks like he's just devoted his whole life to it."

"Well, that's what happens with faith. He has found reason to believe. I must admit that Huttitism is rather a... young religion, but still. If it brings him joy, or fulfillment, then to him, it is worth the sacrifice."

"But it isn't. He's left his girlfriend over it, and she's heartbroken. She's staying with me for now, but she misses him terribly." Mareva frowned. "And I want my bed back, dammit. I have points to earn."

"Oh, you're a Deviant, are you? Now there's a health risk if ever I saw one. You people do realise how lucky you are that none of your members so far has come down with a sexually transmitted disease?"

"We take all the appropriate precautions. Hygiene. Self-monitoring. The only place where people are more aware of these issues would be a brothel."

"Oh, I know." The doctor shook his head. "My wife is a member. You may have... met her."

"Possibly. The end of the trip is in sight. We're all on the final stretch and we need all the points we can get."

"I see. Well, she seems to enjoy herself immensely, and I don't grudge it. It's all above board. Still, I'll be glad to see the end of this trip, if only for that reason."

Mareva looked at the doctor. She put a hand on his arm, and he looked into her eyes.

"She's not really making love, you know? It's just healthy exercise to most of us, with a bit of a twist."

"I know that. It's just that I don't quite trust all the Deviants the way she does. Present company excluded of course. Well, anyway, there's nothing I can do about your friend. If his new-found faith brings him the fulfillment he seeks, he'll just have to adjust his life."

"Thank you, Doctor." 

* * *

"You are not concentrating," said Nobundo. "Something bothers you."

It wasn't a question. Mareva simply nodded.

"If you not want to tell me, fine."

"One of my friends. He's become a Huttite, for real."

"Huttite? He not seen that clown of an Extremely High Priest? He make my eyes water whenever I see him."

"He has, and even that did not help. Oraya is staying with me, and she's really suffering. Poor girl. One of these days, she's going to give up and you can believe someone else will snap her up. She's gorgeous. And damn it. She deserves better than this."

"Huh. Who is this boyfriend?"

"Gur'dan. He's a cooking trainer. So there's nothing for him to do, really."

"What his cabin number?" 

 

They had just gone to bed. Oraya was lying cuddled up in front of Mareva, who had her arm round her waist. It was the only way she could get her to go to sleep lately. Suddenly, the door chime rang, and Oraya jumped up.

"Something's happened to him, I just know."

Mareva blinked, as Oraya ran to the door and opened it. Framed in the doorway, Exodar's lights behind him, stood the massive form of Gur'dan. Mareva shook herself awake.

"Oraya," said Gur'dan, in a very very small voice.

"G-gur'dan?" Oraya's voice quivered.

"I've been such a fool. Such an enormous fool. I don't deserve it, but could you ever forg-"

"Yes!" Oraya leaped at him, wrapped her arms round him. "Yes. Yes. Yes. Please come back to me."

Gur'dan stood motionless for a few moments. Then, he put his arm under Oraya's knees, and picked her up like a small child. He turned round, and carried his love to his home. Mareva waved, completely stunned.

"Bye." 

* * *

"Your friends, they are alright, yes?"

"They must be. They haven't come out of their cabin yet, except I saw Oraya hurry back there carrying a big box of Emarree. What did you tell him? I tried reasoning with him. So did several other people."

Farseer Nobundo chuckled. "You expect me to give you secret? And even so, what good would do you to know?"

Mareva nodded seriously, quietly.

"I accept and respect that, Farseer. I just regret that, in that case, nobody will ever know just how clever you have been. I am sure it was a glorious moment."

Farseer Nobundo burst out laughing. He looked at Mareva's face, and started again.

"Very well, then. Will tell you. But first, must swear upon your honour that you will never tell of this. Must go no further than you."

"I swear, Farseer."

Nobundo shook out his sleeves, and put his hands in them in front of his stomach.

"Smacked him upside head and told him what a stupid zlotnik he was."

Mareva's jaw dropped.

"You _hit_ him?"

"Yes. And told him he still had beautiful girlfriend, whose patience was running out. Have to choose. Sit on tail eating Emarree with spoon in left hand, watching someone else with hands on her tail, or take care of that important business himself. Work it out in three seconds, and run out the door."

"Didn't you tell me a while ago that violence was the last resort of the incompetent?"

"That is true." Nobundo grinned. "For competent, is first option to use. Now. Concentrate. Perhaps today, Spirit of Air speak to you. Better be listening." 

* * *

Copyright: © 2008,2009,2010 Menno Willemse. All rights reserved.


	8. Part 8: Homecoming - THE STRANGE LAST DAYS OF THE GOOD SHIP EXODAR

# THE STRANGE LAST DAYS OF THE GOOD SHIP EXODAR

## Part 8: Homecoming

* * *

"Power output steady at sixty-five percent. Helm neutral."

Engineer Alard was sitting on the Throne, eyes fixed on the console. Mareva, Inuuri and Grofal were standing behind him in a triangle formation, watching the Master at work. As their new world of Azeroth came closer and closer, these tiny course corrections became more and more frequent. They would be aiming for the continent of Kalimdor, but for now, they were merely aiming for the right galaxy. Azeroth, at that moment, was no more than a tiny blotch in the telescopes, and casual onlookers had to be pointed out which of the specks of light it was. The bridge indicator light came on, and Captain Baqiir's calm voice came out of the speakers.

"Egineer Alard? Course correction complete. That concludes this evening's excitement. Thank you for your efforts, and good night."

Alard pressed the button. "Thanks Sir. Engine room out."

Grofal nodded. "There we are. Remember Inuuri, some beautiful day, you may even be allowed to do something as wild as this."

"Oh, but you would always be ahead of me. Always take the exciting jobs away from me." She bent over to Grofal, showing a generous amount of herself. "Would you like to come into the airlock with me? Airlocks turn me on."

Alard gave Inuuri a stern look. "No blowing my personnel out of the airlock, Inuuri. It's the first Company rule."

Mareva laughed. "You know, that being the first rule of our happy gathering tells me much. How many engineers did we start with?"

"Well," said Grofal. "Four obviously. It is against the rules to blow engineers out of the airlock."

"There's always the incinerator," said Inuuri. "Incinerators make me _hot_."

"Incinerators are for the zlotniks who turn off their heaters and then complain of the cold," said Mareva. "Hooves first for preference."

"It is very gratifying to see that homicidal tendencies are still at a healthy level," said Alard, getting out of his chair. "Good evening all, I am going to the chess club to see if there's any hapless fools to pound into the ground."

Mareva grinned. "Say hello to Gazpaar for me."

"Are you kidding? I hide when he shows up. He is very bad for my rating."

"Wear something skimpy," said Grofal. "That's how Mareva does it."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Alard walked out of the door. They looked at the clock. It was Grofal's shift for another half hour, then Mareva's.

"Get lost, you," said Mareva. "I'll take it from here."

"Um, actually," said Inuuri, "Can I swap with you?"

"Sure. Why?"

"Someone unspecified is off shift when your shift ends, and there are many things I would like to discuss with him."

"My goodness," said Mareva. "I thought I was the only one here with a sex life. You go, girl!"

Grofal sighed, and made for the door.

"You disgust me," he said. "Taking your clothes off in front of third parties. I'm going to the Belltower and Rifle, and drown my jealousy in Qrovna." With a wave, he was gone.

Inuuri shook her head. "Don't know what his problem is. Why doesn't he just find someone? He's handsome enough."

"Says he hasn't found the right girl yet."

"There's about three thousand females on board. None of them meet Mr. Grofal's specific requirements?"

"Apparently not. Well, have a good shift, see you later." 

* * *

Mareva handed her little black book over to the scorer, a long standing member of the style committee. He was grinning at her.

"Oh, recruiting a new member is always a good thing. Recruiting a mathematician is impressive, though. They're not usually... open to our specific flavour of entertainment."

"Poor frustrated souls. They have been chipping away at this formula for most of the trip now, and still they are no nearer to either proving or disproving Vremaat's first theorem. I suggested that taking his mind off things for a moment might be good. He asked what I had in mind. I suggested we concentrate on Vibonaar instead. From there to rabbits was a simple step, and from rabbits, it was downhill running, really."

The scorer chuckled. "I'll give you three style points for that, Seduction by theorem. I like it. Mind you, he still has to get through the ballot, but mathematicians are normally not the ones who start illicit brothels."

"You want the Engineers for that," said Mareva. "For three more style points, I'll tell you where it is."

"Underneath the Belltower and Rifle," said the scorer. "Someone beat you there."

"Damn. Right. How many points does Debaar have?"

"Let me see... Twelve hundred seventy five. With these last few points, you're at twelve hundred and eighty one."

"Hmm. Still in the lead, but I don't trust her."

"Well, she's not holding back any points, that I can tell you."

"Hmm..." Mareva licked her lips at the scorer, with intent. "Do I get style points for..."

The scorer shook his head. "You might have, if you were the first. But it's been done before."

"Let me guess..."

"Lorelei. And not just one scorer, but all of them. At the same time. On the scoring table."

"Damn that woman," said Mareva, without much heat. Lorelei was generally acknowledged to be so far ahead that you'd need a week-long orgy to overtake her. Which was a bit much even for Mareva.

"Have we had the pleasure? Just for normal points, you understand."

"Don't think so. Fair warning, though, I don't get to hand out style points for my own samplings. Would be unethical. And the scoring table is bloody uncomfortable." 

* * *

Mareva walked through the central hall, where usually presentations were given about the various enemies that one might encounter on Draenor. However, the three-dimensional displays had been changed to lazily spinning globes of the planet, their intended landing site marked with a red dot. External monitors had been connected to Exodar's powerful telescopes, and were constantly showing the actual surface of the planet. One of Grofal's more inspired ideas. Five more days. Just five more days before they'd all be breathing _real_ air again. There might even be... Voices had spoken of... _real food_. Gur'dan was selling recipes by the score. Prowler flank, Landstrider steak. Venison. Thinking on it, it worried her slightly. There were about six-thousand souls on board. The island they were heading for, Bloodmyst Isle, was barely large enough to land on. They could hardly descend on it and strip it of all wildlife, like a carnivorous plague of locusts. So it looked like there was more Emarree in their future. Still, there would be plenty of air. Mareva looked forward to it. To breathe the air of another planet was one of the most profound experiences for a spacefarer, and nobody ever became jaded to it.

"Excuse me?" Some woman wearing a Deviants' badge tapped her shoulder. "Have we... oh. Yes, we have. Sorry."

"No problem," said Mareva. "Loved that thing you did."

Actually, she didn't recall her, but it was a safe bet. It was becoming quite hard to find people she hadn't sampled yet. Helpful souls had drawn up a big table in the club house, to keep track. It was oddly similar to the one in the chess players' clubhouse, and had the same function. Even Lorelei was having problems, and was re-sampling the very few people who hadn't given her full points. It worked, too. "I'll do whatever you want," coming from this enchanting creature was enough to melt anyone's brain. Mareva sighed. Five more days. And then all this silliness would end and people would be able to see how much of their sanity they'd been able to keep.

They'd need it. There were new homes to start, people to meet who'd probably never seen a blue face before. A few weeks ago, all official communication had switched to Common, the language spoken by most of the denizens of Azeroth. It was only the native language of the Humans, but all the Alliance forces could speak it. Mareva had been practicing. So had Viral. Mareva giggled. One of her samples had insisted on speaking Common in bed with her, which was a bit surreal, but useful if ever she fancied a Human. Yeah, right.

Engineer Alard had been briefing them on the procedures for landing on the mass reaction engines. He'd be doing most of the work, but Inuuri, Grofal and Mareva were expected to jump in when something went wrong. They all refused even to entertain the thought that nothing might. The Fuckup Fairy gatecrashed all parties, and the sign of quality for an Engineer was how well she dealt with her inevitable gifts.

Inevitably, Mareva's thoughts returned to Viral. Try as she might, she could not keep the smile off her face. They still hadn't officially sampled each other. They were saving that for the last day when scores would still be accepted. Once Exodar touched down, things would change between them. They both had things to do, places to go. It would be nice if at least the places would be the same for both of them. Mareva walked a bit faster. She was heading to his cabin, to shower and flaunt herself at him without a trace of shame. It would be bad for both their scores, but who cares? 

* * *

They hardly ever spoke. It wasn't safe to make too much noise, and there wasn't anything to discuss anyway. There were only twelve of them, and they knew they were the last. They were the last word in the conflict, waiting, waiting for all others to fail. They had seen all others fail, and be slaughtered by these horned freaks of nature. For all they knew, there might be other groups on board this part of the sky-city, Good luck to them. If they didn't have the sense to stay out of sight till the last, then they would fail, and die. For that matter, they themselves were under no illusions. They would never see their native lands again. And neither would any of this scum. One of them stirred, got up, noiselessly. He put a green eye to one of the peepholes they'd made in the side of the crates, and looked out. Blue-skinned animals crawled back and forth, breathing the air, useless. Nature never intended for this filth to survive, and soon, they would see to it that they didn't. 

* * *

Mareva sat at her table, looking in the tiny mirror she'd borrowed from Oraya. She was never one to use make-up, and she reasoned that if she'd start now, she'd only make a mess of it, which would be counter-productive. She did brush out her hair, which she normally kept in tight rolled-up plaits just underneath her back-swept horns. Regulations. You don't want long hair to get caught in the machinery. For a moment, she considered showing up on Viral's doorstep fully naked, but decided against it. Her purple silk robe would do, and her instincts told her that having nothing on _underneath_ a robe would work even better. She glanced at the clock. Four. Wait ten more minutes, then go. 

 

"Well? Can I come in?"

"Wait a few seconds. I want a few more people to see you entering my cabin, and tear out their hair in envy."

Mareva raised an eyebrow, put a hand on her hip and with studied nonchalance let the front of her robes fall open, promising, though not revealing. She shook her hair back over her shoulders. Well?

Viral stepped back, and let her in. The lights were low. The teapot was sitting on the heating element of an Emarree, the contents of which he'd thrown away. The bed was out, the blanket pulled up, inviting.

"Tea?"

"Please."

Mareva sat down on the bed, and watched Viral pour out tea for them both, adding almost the last of his honey. He was wearing a white shirt, loose-fitting trousers. As he handed her a warm cup, she ran a finger over the back of his hand.

He sat down on the bed next to her, and they sipped warm tea, looking into each other's eyes. The tea was a dark Nagrand mint variety, and one of Old Mhaari's favourites. Mareva drained her cup, handed it back to Viral. She looked at him, waiting for him to ask. Viral put away the cups, sat back down, and took Mareva's hand in his.

"Will you be my partner tonight, to sample the height and width of pleasure? To leave no kindness ungiven, no caress withheld, no joy untasted?"

"Yes," said Mareva. "I consent to do this."

Viral reached out, pulled the rope that held Mareva's robes closed. Mareva shrugged, and let it fall down her shoulders. Viral looked into her eyes first, smiling, and then let his gaze slide over her body. He moved a bit closer. Mareva unbuttoned Viral's shirt, not hurrying, not waiting, and took it off. Viral's eyes glinted at her.

"More tea?"

"No."

She reached out to his belt buckle. Viral stood up in front of the bed, so she could undo it, and let his trousers fall to the floor. Her eyes never left his, even as she hopped back onto the bed, so he could join her. Mareva closed her eyes and sighed, as Viral's hand slid from her knee all the way up to her neck. She pressed her back into his chest. Draenei men were so much larger than the women, and still. Their bodies fit together perfectly. Officially, they were sampling, but Mareva would have given Viral all the points he wanted, simply for lying with her like this. She thought back on all the mad things she'd done this last year. Swing by her tail from the ceiling. Dress up in chainmail. Chase her partner round the room blindfolded. Pillow fights. Instant poetry. Strange and exotic positions that never worked, but gave them both the giggles. Even plain, simple companionship, touching your partner where they enjoyed it most, watching them sigh with pleasure. Just like she was doing with Viral now. Nothing special. Nothing strange. The very best. Viral pulled her closer, if that was possible.

"I want you," he whispered.

"I'm yours," said Mareva. 

 

Mareva lay in a warm bed, her lover cuddled up tight behind her. They'd only done one round. If you do it _right_ , there's no need to do another. His fingers were playing with her hair. His breath brushed her cheek.

"Hey. We have a little writing to do, before we sleep."

"True," said Mareva, not moving an inch.

"Come on," said Viral. "I want to know how many points you'll give me."

"Shutup. Too comfy."

"I can fix that," said Viral, and she could hear the grin on his face.

"Oh alright. Gimme your book."

Viral handed it over, and a pen. Mareva opened it on the last written page, started on a blank page.  
   


>   
> Engineer Mareva. Three points. Three thousand would not be  
> enough. Nobody else even comes near.

 

Mareva handed back the little black book. Viral read and smiled. Suddenly, Mareva was afraid. The day after tomorrow, this would all end. She would follow Viral to all the corners of this new world, but what if he didn't want her to? Her fingers trembled as she handed him her own book. She couldn't help noticing hers had more written pages than Viral's. Did he truly not mind? She looked away as Viral made his entry into her notebook. He closed it, handed it back to her. She opened the book, turned to the last page, tried to see in his face if he'd written something good. Then, her eyes turned to the final entry. There was only his name, three points, four words. Mareva breathed in as much as she could, closed her eyes a moment. When she opened them, the words were still there. She closed the book and carefully laid it on the table. Then, she turned to Viral.

"Yes. Yes! Yes I will! Yes!" 

* * *

Wildoor, Chairman of the deviants for another few hours, raised his hands. The doors were left open. Anyone who wanted to know what they'd missed, could walk in. As usual, the lights were dim. About three hundred people had shown up, most of the active members. Mareva sat somewhere near the back, cuddled up close to her fiancee. Her eyes were closed. Her face glowed. She was prepared to cheer at anything.

"My fellow Deviants," started Wildoor. "Welcome to the last meeting of the Deviants of Exodar, and what a strange long trip it's been. Now to ask the most important question first: Did everyone enjoy themselves?"

The gathering cheered.

"I thought you might, you bunch of perverts. Well then. On with the results."

"I wonder who's won," said Viral.

Mareva grinned, not even opening her eyes. "Really?"

"No."

"Did you..."

"Of course. Three and three. You?"

"Same. That's the nice thing. Nobody loses."

Wildoor continued. "You will be pleased to know that the Deviants are at this time the largest social club on Exodar, with nearly twelve hundred members. I have applied to add an 'S' to Exodar's name, but sadly, my request was turned down by reason of it being too silly for words. Obviously, if we were to call out all of your names, we would not have time for the stories, so all the final scores are on the club page."

Mareva stirred, almost tempted to get up.

"Stay down, my lovely wife-to-be," said Viral. "You can see if you've beaten Debaar after the ceremony."

"Haven't seen her yet. Maybe she's afraid to turn up, but I don't think so. The problem with Helmsman Debaar is not that she lacks confidence."

A member of the style committee walked up carrying a pink envelope with a golden trim. He handed it to Wildoor, nodded and walked off. Wildoor opened the envelope.

"In third place, with a very respectable eighteen-hundred, onehundred and five, Mr. Drenin! Are you present? Ah."

A man wearing a blue shirt over crimson trousers stood up, held out his arms and bowed, to thunderous applause.

Viral laughed. "Ah. I remember him. He tried to get me to sample him. I must say he made a brave attempt, but it really is not for me."

"I think I did," said Mareva. "Gave me only one point. I gave him two."

"Want me to beat him up for spurning my girlfriend?"

"Girlfriend? Does your fiancee know?"

Wildoor waited politely for the noise to die down. "Right. Well done Mr. Drenin, for saving the men's honour, if we may call it that. In second place, with nineteen hundred and three points, we have the lovely miss Kudrii. Please, reveal yourself!"

A woman wearing an outfit obviously borrowed from the Cult of Hut, stood up. Viral sneered.

"I tried asking her. Wouldn't. Thought she could get more points elsewhere."

"I got her," said Mareva. "Two for her, three for me. She's a bit up herself. Still, pretty good." She grinned. "She asked me for a re-sample last night. Sorry dear. Busy."

"And finally," said Wildoor, "Our surprise winner... With a massive _twenty-five hundred and three_ , Yeoman Lorelei!"

The applause and shouts nearly blew out the walls as Lorelei stood up. She was smiling like mad, and her cheeks were wet with tears. At a gesture from Wildoor, Lorelei came up to the stage. She hugged Wildoor, who pointed her at the audience.

"By the Light," said Mareva. "I _know_ the girl has been in the bed of everybody in this room, and _still_ I think she looks too young to be here."

Lorelei took a deep breath, blinked and steadied herself.

"I love you all," she said.

"Bucket, please," said Viral.

"Aww shush. I think the girl means it."

"The boys and girls I tricked into sampling me as soon as they joined. I love you all. The people who taught me things I didn't know would feel so good. I love you. The nasty bitches who held me down and changed the colour of my cheeks for me..." Lorelei grinned. "And who didn't believe I'd do the same to them. I love you all." Lorelei waited a few moments for the laughter to die down. "The young boy who took three days to work up the courage to ask me, and made me see stars when he finally did..." Her eyes turned to a very specific spot in the room. "I love you."

Lorelei reached into her pocket, and held up her little black book.

"I spent last night alone..." Laughter from the crowd. "Well, believe it or not. Reading back all the names, all the numbers, all the sweet comments. I remember each and every one of your faces, and as long as I live, I will not forget you. I love you all. Thank you."

The applause lasted for minutes, until Wildoor finally managed to make himself heard over the din.

"My fellow Deviants, we now proceed to the honourable mentions. For females who have only sampled males, the highest-ranking woman... Miss Altaa."

A woman with long black hair tied in plaits stood up, beaming. She looked gorgeous in a white shirt, green waistcoat and dark, tight-fitting trousers. Viral grinned.

"Oh, she's good. She's really good. Remember that thing that you liked so much, with you sitting on my lap?"

Mareva blushed. "Yes, I do."

Viral nodded. "She showed me."

"Hmm. Must remember to thank her."

"Next," said Wildoor, "Men who have only sampled women. With a respectable eight-hundred and thirteen points, Armoursmith Viral!"

Mareva's jaw dropped. "That's _you_!"

Viral stood up, arms spread out, and took a bow. He winked at Mareva.

"Don't be so surprised! You of all people should know how good I am." He sat down and put his arm round Mareva. "And if you don't, you'll have years to find out."

"Next, the person with the most style points," Wildoor rolled his eyes. "Oh get the girl a chair on stage, someone! Lorelei!" Wildoor leaned on the small table. "The _entire_ style committee?"

Lorelei giggled, and said nothing.

"Next, The fastest scorer in points per hour. No, it is not who you think! This person is a recent joiner. An _extremely_ recent joiner, I might add. She and her partner joined six minutes before closing of the scores. She then proceeded to score a massive twenty-three points, which she handed in one minute before closing. This put her score at one hundred and sixty eight points per hour, which not even our energetic young yeoman could match. She, by the way, is also the only one who can claim actually to have sampled our Captain! Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you... Lady Foori!"

Everyone cheered as Lady Foori and Captain Baqiir rose, embraced and bowed to their audience. They sat down, the captain with Lady Foori in his arms.

"And now, may I please call to the stage, the following people. Miss Lanii. Lady Emony, Miss Audrid, and Miss Mareva!"

Mareva's jaw dropped. She looked at Viral.

"That's you," said Viral.

"I know. What's going on?"

"Get up there and find out," said Viral.

With a face the colour of ripe skethyl-berries, Mareva stepped up on the stage, and joined the others.

"My friends, when I first proposed to found this club, people warned me, saying nothing good would come of it. It would all end in tears. These beautiful young ladies will make them eat those words. They have all found, on the last page of their little black books, a proposal to marriage, and they have accepted! I'm sure I speak for all of you, when I wish them the very best!"

The applause eventually died down, and Mareva with the other brides-to-be sat down. Wildoor suddenly looked up at something moving by the door. The biggest grin appeared on his face, as he waved for silence.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. You will no doubt remember our most enjoyable and profitable arrangement with the Zealots of Exodar, and the massive number of style points that might be earned. My friends..." Wildoor pointed at the door. "We got him! Give your finest welcome to... Novice Aqaar of the Zealots of Exodar!"

Flanked by two very, _very_ large Huttite priests, Aqaar strode into the room, and up to the stage. Gone were his violently coloured clothes, and the dark hat of his office. He wore only a Novice's white robe. He raised his hands, and bowed his head.

"Brothers and Sisters," said Aqaar. "I have transgressed. I have transgressed so extensively, that I have fallen from the highest of the High, to the lowest of the Low. My transgressions were heinous and severe. I have worn the wrong colours for each and every day. I have visited the chess players, and _cheated_. I visited the Mathematicians, walked up to a board marked DNE, and... _erased it_. I have visited the Musicians, and sang out of tune... _on purpose_! I have fallen to the temptation of one of your number. To protect her honour, I will not mention her name."

Lorelei beamed at him, gave him a dazzling smile and wiggled her fingers. "Loved every moment," she shouted.

"Thus," said Aqaar, "I have transgressed, but wise and just is Great Hut, for he has taken from me my office, my points and my ranks, and I now stand before you as a man changed, and humbled."

Aqaar rose to his full height, reached into his pocket, and pulled out his dark blue sunglasses. He put them on, and adjusted them so they were perfectly straight.

"Almost as long as I've been Supreme High Priest of Hut, people have been plotting my downfall, without success. Bunch of zlotniks. Did you really think that I would leave the plotting of my downfall to _amateurs_?" 

* * *

Mareva stood next to Viral, her face shining with joy. Suddenly, she raised a finger.

"Forgot something. Won't be a minute."

She dashed off to one of the walls of the room, and holding her breath, ran her finger down the list. She knew roughly where she'd ended up. Somewhere in the high middle. No matter. There was only one thing that did matter. Ah. Engineer Mareva. Final score. Thirteen hundred and four. And just underneath, at thirteen hundred and two...

"Yes!"

Someone tapped her shoulder.

"Let other people take a look, will you? Don't they teach you stokers any manners?"

Mareva grinned at Helmsman Debaar. "Pardon my rudeness. As it happens, I have found your name already."

Debaar raised an eyebrow. "And from your incredibly smug expression, I deduce that it is somewhat below yours?"

"I am afraid so. By two points. Hardly a significant difference on thirteen hundred."

But I beat you, Mareva didn't say. Debaar sighed, and gave a little laugh.

"Congratulations," she said. "I made a gamble last night. It didn't pay off. I saw you on stage. You are going to get married?"

Mareva grinned. She couldn't help it. "Yes. Yes, I am."

"Well, congratulations on that, too. I think I'll go and find some of my favourites."

Debaar turned round to leave. Mareva put a hand on her shoulder. Debaar looked round. Mareva held out her hand. Debaar hesitated a moment, then took it.

"Good match," said Mareva. "Thank you."

Debaar hinted that she might have smiled, turned round and walked off. Mareva trotted back to Viral.

"I won. Do I get a prize?"

"Yes," said Viral. 

* * *

Copyright: © 2008,2009,2010 Menno Willemse. All rights reserved.


	9. Part 9: Imperfection - THE STRANGE LAST DAYS OF THE GOOD SHIP EXODAR

# THE STRANGE LAST DAYS OF THE GOOD SHIP EXODAR

## Part 9: Imperfection

* * *

O'ros' artificial voice sounded beautiful, neither male nor female and with undertones of unshakable calm. He used it only when he communicated by electronic means.

"The course calculations are complete. Projected time of arrival two hours, ten minutes, thirty seconds from now. Helm, are you ready?"

Captain Baqiir's voice answered.

"Ready."

"Engine room, are you ready?"

Alard reached out and pressed the talk button.

"Ready. Power output at seventy-five percent. Awaiting orders."

"Stand by."

They all looked at the clock at the very top of the console, as it counted down. Just underneath was the distance to the carefully chosen landing spot on Azuremyst island, the largest of a small group of islands west of Kalimdor.

"Here we go," said Alard. Several indicators started to move as the final course corrections were laid in. The engines were taking the strain beautifully as Exodar hit the atmosphere and started to slow down. This was a fairly old-fashioned way to approach a planet, but pointing the transdimensional engines at a specific place required markers that the denizens of Azeroth regrettably would not invent for maybe another thousand years. So you motor in slowly, and change the subject when someone brings it up.

"Engine room? Please increase power output to ninety percent of maximum."

Alard's fingers were already hovering over the controls before O'ros had finished speaking.

"Seventy-five... Eighty... Eighty-five... Ninety percent of capacity. Standing by."

"Thank you. Please maintain."

"Will do. Out."

Mareva walked to the coffee machine, grabbed a mug and held it up.

"Coffee anyone?"

"Black," said Alard. "No sugar."

"Got it."

Mareva poured coffee into mugs, looked questioningly at the others. They shook their heads. She handed Alard his coffee and went back to staring at the screen. 

 

They spotted it all at the same time. One of the engine symbols went red, and there was a beep from the console.

"Right," said Grofal. "There she is. Your friendly neighborhood fuckup fairy."

"The Gods are doing something upon us," agreed Inuuri.

Alard was tapping away at the controls, trying to get Number Four engine back under control. He shook his head.

"Up the bloody spout. Inuuri? Get out there and see what's happening, will you?"

"I'm on it!"

Inuuri grabbed her toolbox and headed out.

The Bridge light blinked, and Captain Baqiir's voice was heard.

"Is there a problem, Chief? Power just dropped."

Alard sighed, pressed the button. "Lost control of number four engine, Sir. Compensating with one, two and three. One of my engineers is on it."

He pushed back the slide on number four, and pushed up the three others. He had to type in a password to prove he hadn't gone mad.

"Engines one, two and three operating at one-hundred fifteen of max, Sir. Please try not to do anything too wild."

"Acknowledged," said Baqiir.

"Compensating flight path to allow for loss of power," said O'ros. 

 

With another beep of the console, the second engine went red. Alard frowned. Even before he tried, he knew that he wouldn't get any joy out of this controller, either..

"Oh Lady Luck, this is a bit above and beyond," he said. "Mareva? Your chance to excell has just arrived."

"Each day is a blessing," said Mareva. She picked up her toolbox and headed out to see what had happened to the controller of engine two.

Alard pressed the talk button. "Captain? We have just lost control of engine number two. Permission to spin up TD engines for emergency jump?"

The bridge light came on. "Permission granted. What is going on down there, Chief?"

"Two controllers out, Sir. I've sent engineers Inuuri and Mareva out to investigate."

O'ros' light came on. "I regret to inform you that with only two engines functional, we will not be able to ecape Azeroth's gravity well. We will either have to make an emergency landing, or use the trans-dimensional engines.

"Understood," said Baqiir. "Good luck to your engineers, Chief."

"Thank you. Engine room standing by." 

 

"Chief?" Inuuri's voice sounded flat, even.

"Alard here. What's up, Inuuri?"

"The controller network has been blown out. As in explosives. We have saboteurs on board. Repeat. Saboteurs."

Grofal's jaw dropped. "Crap! Just what we need."

"Thank you, Grofal," said Alard. He pressed his talk button. "Captain, O'ros. Engine controller network has been blown out with explosives by saboteurs. Repeat. Saboteurs on board."

"Acknowledged," said the Captain. Seconds later, the alarm was sounded all over the ship.

A new voice joined the conversation.

"Velen here. I've sent out patrols, just in case there's more saboteurs and evildoers afoot."

"Thank you, Prophet," said the Captain. "Chief? Any updates?"

"Not yet, Sir." He pressed another button. "Inuuri?"

"Sir? I've just patched the engine controller directly into your console. I thought you might be able to do without all the temperature readings for a while."

"Oh good girl!" Alard looked. "Yes. It's gone green. Well done. Have an extra cookie when you get back."

"Oh Sir! You spoil me! Well, heading-"

There was a loud bang, and the sound dropped. Alard and Grofal looked at each other. Alard hit the button.

"Inuuri?"

Nobody answered.

"Inuuri!"

There was a crackle on the speaker, and Inuuri's scared voice. A siren was going off in the background.

"Sir? There was another bomb. Behind the controller. I think it took out the power conduit. I can't get out! Can you open the door?"

Alard took a deep breath, took his hand away from the talk button.

"Oh merciful Light... Please. No!"

He pressed the button. "Stand by."

Grofal looked at Alard, his face pale and drawn.

"That was the radiation alert," he said.

"Alard! Get me out of here! My skin is burning!"

"Hang on, Inuuri," said Alard.

Grofal scowled. "Well? Get her out of there!"

"Can't," said Alard. "When there's radiation, the doors lock up, and we can't open them."

"But then..."

Alard looked at his hands. "She's dead. If one of those conduits ruptures, it takes you one second to get a fatal dose. There's nothing I can do."

"Alard..." Inuuri's voice broke up. "Hurry... It hurts."

Alard looked straight into Grofal's eyes.

"Spin up the TD engines. We'll need them if more mass reactors go. I'll see what I can do."

Grofal gave him a look. Then, he turned round to the console for the trans-dimensional engines.

Alard pressed the talk button. "Inuuri? Are you there, my girl?"

"Yes," said Inuuri, and coughed. "I'm coughing up blood, Alard. Please..."

"Everything is going to be alright. Now. Look at the door handle, and tell me. Is there a red light on the handle?"

"Yes. Alard? Tell Giraz..."

"I will, girl. Now keep watching that light. When it goes green, you'll have one second to open the door and get out."

"Will.. do."

Alard briefly closed his eyes, then with one swift move, he pushed the engine power all the way up. He typed in the password, and pushed it even further up. There was no way for Inuuri to talk to him. Still, he could imagine her screaming. He kept the power up for ten, twenty, thirty seconds, then pulled it back. His hands shook.

"Sleep well, my child. Forgive me."

Grofal looked at Alard, saying nothing.

"It would have taken her hours to die," said Alard.

Grofal screwed his eyes shut, then looked straight into Alard's eyes.

"On her behalf, I thank you."

Suddenly, his eyes opened wide, and he gasped.

"Mareva! If there's another bomb in engine two..."

Alard whirled round in his seat and punched the talk button.

"Mareva! If you are in there, get out! Get out! There is a secondary charge! Repeat. A second bomb! Get out!" 

* * *

Mareva ran along the service corrior to the engine controller room. A dark frown was on her face. Why, by the Naaru, did equipment that had behaved itself properly for a year suddenly start acting up now, when it was important? Always the same. She opened one of the service doors and emerged into the light of the Crystal Hall. She ran another few hundred yards, and stopped in front of another one of the service doors. These were built to merge into the walls, not quite invisible but looking uninteresting. Some twenty yards to her right, two girls stood, in an embrace that indicated that they were not very interested in entering off-limits areas, except perhaps for privacy. Mareva opened the shutter that hid the keypad, typed in the number and the door opened. She glanced at the girls, with a little smile on her face. Settling a few things before landfall, are we?

Suddenly, Mareva's smile was wiped off her face. One of the girls was leaning with her back to the wall. Mareva was quite certain that the walls in Exodar did not have holes for putting your tail in, and yet... that girl's tail disappeared into the wall. She leapt forward, and slammed the button that would close the door. It clanged shut behind her. She stood still. Was she seeing ghosts? She closed her eyes, recalling what she'd seen. Two girls, looking deep into each other's eyes, one of them leaning against the wall, just in case her knees gave out at some point. Hadn't her tail simply been between her legs?

Behind her, someone started to bang on the door. She could not hear what the girl was shouting, but it was sure to be something like "Open up!" Yeah, right. Mareva pulled up the strap to her toolbox, and ran. Maybe she was seeing things, but she didn't think so. There would be an intercom in the controller room. She reached the door to the large controller that directed the right amount of power to the second mass reaction engine. She reached for the keypad to type in the code.

"Wait!"

Mareva jumped. She looked to her left and right, and behind her, but nobody was there. She reached out to the keypad again.

"I dwell in that room."

Mareva closed her eyes. Who was speaking to her? There was nobody there! One of the Elemental Spirits? Oh, excellent. Exodar was about to plummet to the ground, unless she got this engine going. Just the time for a profound religious experience. She tapped in the code, and the door hissed open.

"If you enter, I will consume you."

Mareva stood still. Spirit of Fire. One of the least talkative, according to Farseer Nobundo, had just warned her. She set her jaw. And still, she must go in. Six thousand people's lives depended on it.

"Thank you, Spirit of Fire. But I must."

She started to move forward, when suddenly, there was a loud bang in the room. Then, there was another bang and the door, ten times her own weight in solid steel, slammed to in front of her face, propelled by explosives that were only used if this door needed to be closed _now_. The sirens went off, announcing to anyone inside the room that they were now dead. Mareva slowly breathed in, conscious of the fact that she still could. She slowly let her breath escape.

"Spirit of Fire, I thank you," she said. She looked at the door.

"Oh _crap_." 

* * *

"Any progress yet, Chief?"

Captain Baqiir's voice was as calm as if he were asking if the coffee was done yet.

"We are going to have to do without number two and four engines, Sir. I regret to inform you that Engineer Inuuri died in the execution of her duties, from radiation poisoning. The power conduits to number four engine and I must assume, also the number two engine, have been destroyed, without possibility of repair. Engineer Mareva has not reported back yet and may be in trouble."

"Velen here. Patrols of peacekeepers report several contacts with Sin'dorei agents. I am also putting into operation our plans for evacuating the ship. All civilians have been ordered to proceed to the cryo-core and to board one of the pods in an orderly fashion."

"Are they?" asked Baqiir.

"Yes," said Velen. "I am proud to say that our people are behaving rationally and decisively."

O'ros' light came on. "Captain, I regret to inform you that our engines are not capable of sustaining altitude. I suggest that we try a sliding landing on the water."

"How long can we stay up?"

"Approximately one hour, ten minutes, margin of error thirty minutes."

"Velen, how is your evacuation going?"

"All civilians are in the pods. We are now adding all the military personnel that can be spared. We are ready to launch at a moment's notice."

"Chief," said Baqiir, "Any joy on the TD engines?"

Alard looked over his shoulder at Grofal, who was manipulating the controls with a determined expression on his face. He held up his hand, five fingers outstretched.

"Engine will be charged and ready to go in five minutes, Sir."

"Good. O'ros, calculate a course that will allow us to reach Azuremyst Isle sliding over the water."

"Course set. Entered into helm automata under name AZM zero-two."

Grofal looked up.

"TD engines spinning up. Zero two, eh? You know what that means."

An amused little smile was on Alard's face, which almost reached his tired eyes.

"He expects at most ninety-eight more revisions. Bloody optimist."

Grofal glanced at the TD engines' console. The indicators were doing what they should.

"Hope Mareva's alright." 

* * *

"Hey you! You look like an engineer. I need your help."

Mareva looked at the soldier who was running up to her. She had a large mace in one hand, a shield in the other. She was wearing a chest piece that fitted her perfectly, and still left a strip of blue skin bare between it and her chainmail leggings. Possibly a compromise between mobility and protection. Mareva looked back up at her face.

"Does it involve an intercom? My fellow engineers don't know whether I am alive or not. I feel I have to disappoint them."

"Probably. My husband is trapped inside his cabin. I need to get him to one of the pods."

"Do you have a data terminal in your cabin?"

"Of course."

"We have the makings of a deal."

Mareva followed the soldier, as she ran at a brisk pace towards the habitation tier.

"By the way, I'm Engineer Mareva."

"Vindicator Corin. Long life, good health. I know who you are. You tried to seduce my husband. He pointed you out to me."

"Quite possible. I have seduced lots of men. Some of them were married. All members, though."

"You gave him the idea for this necklace," said Corin. "Thank you."

"You are _Gazpaar's_ wife?"

"Yes. Ah. Here we are."

Mareva stared. The keypad next to the door was a tangled mess of wires and broken crystal. Just as if someone had smashed it in with, oh, a one-handed mace or something. Mareva looked at Corin.

"Did you do this?"

"Yeah. There were Sin'dorei on the warpath, and I didn't want him to leave the cabin."

"You zlotnik! How am I going to get this door open now?"

"Well, can't you hack your way in?"

Mareva didn't dignify that with an answer. She started pulling out wires. One of them sparked.

"Ow!" Mareva sucked a finger.

"Wimp," said Corin.

"Start banging on the door, why don't you? Preferably with your head."

"Hmm." Corin turned round her mace, and banged on the door with its butt end. "Darling? Are you alright?" She looked round at Mareva. "I can't hear him."

"Cabins are sound proof. He could be yelling at the top of his lungs in there, and you wouldn't be able to hear."

"How do you know?"

"I have made people yell inside their cabins."

Corin snorted. "Are you going to get this door open, or what?"

"Just a minute," said Mareva. She had just found the two wires she wanted, and touched them together. The door opened.

Corin stormed inside. "Darling?"

Mareva followed Corin. Gazpaar was obviously not there. On the table was a single piece of paper, neatly folded in two, with the name "Corin" written on it in neat handwriting. She picked it up.  
   


>   
> My Darling,  
>    
> Have decided not to divorce you, as still love you very much  
> despite all this. Signal went out, so have disobeyed your  
> orders and left cabin for Cryo-core. I am sorry, my love,  
> Prophet Velen outranks even you. Looking forward to meeting you  
> on this new world. May the Naaru protect you.  
>    
> Yours eternally, Gazpaar.

 

Mareva read over Corin's shoulder.

"Aww," she said, noticed the data terminal and pounced on it. She called up the direct communications page and tried the engine room.  
   


>   
> Mareva. Am still alive. Number four engine out of commission  
> permanently. Please advise.

 

She waited a few seconds for a reply. Nothing came. She frowned. Zlotniks who never answer their messages. She looked round at Corin.

"Where are you going?"

"Cryo-core, most likely. I want to find that husband of mine and slap him and then jump on his bones."

"Hah. So why did you smash in the keypad on the outside of the door?"

"Wanted to keep him safe inside."

Mareva looked up, at the door, which was still trying to open further and further. The keypad on the inside was still intact.

"You must be _dynamite_ in bed. I think I'll return to the engine room and tell them to look at their messages."

She pulled the terminal towards her and typed another message.  
   


>   
> Mareva. Currently in habitation tier. Will proceed to engine  
> room. End of message.

 

"There," she said. "I am off to the engine room. Good luck finding Gazpaar. Give him my best."

Corin sniffed. "I'll give him more than your best."

Mareva opened her mouth, but something moved on the terminal and she glanced down.  
   


>   
> Grofal. Very glad to see you. Stay where you are. Engine room  
> area somewhat hectic. Never a peacekeeper around when you need  
> one.

 

Corin scowled as she read this.

"I've had it with you bloody stokers. I'm going over there to make him eat those words. And you're coming with me."

"Err..."

"Why are you not moving?"

"Just a second." Mareva typed a final message.  
   


>   
> Mareva. Help under way. Sit tight.

 

"Let's go," she said, logged out and followed Corin as she ran off. 

* * *

Engineer Alard watched the security monitor. He nodded his head.

"Make a note, Engineer Grofal. Sin'dorei can _not_ breathe fire extinguishing gas longer than maybe ten minutes. That was an important experiment and I'm glad you suggested it."

"The strivs set a small charge first, to make us pay attention. Then, there was a second, bigger bomb to do the real damage. Rather elaborate for a bunch of demon-botherers."

Alard's eyes narrowed at Grofal.

"I know. They had a specific goal in mind when they thought that up."

"Us," said Grofal. "They wanted to kill us, to keep us from making emergency repairs." He looked at the still figures of the Sin'dorei soldiers on the monitor. "May the Light forgive me, but I'm glad they're dead, and I'm glad they suffered."

The men looked at each other, neither of them speaking, but clearly both thinking of their friend and colleague, burnt alive in invisible fire.

"Thank the Light that Mareva's alright," said Alard. 

* * *

"Are you alright?" Corin held out a hand to Mareva, and pulled her to her hooves.

"Just got knocked over. Not to worry."

"So did he," said Corin, looking at the corpse of the Blood-elf who'd jumped them.

The Elf had charged at Mareva first, and Corin had killed him with one shot of her mace to the chest. Mareva decided to be nicer to her. They ran on, until they reached the technical tier. It became clear immediately what Grofal had meant by "hectic". Five Sin'dorei were in the corridor, trying to make their way in. The door held so far, because it was one of the doors that kept the air in if the technical tier were to break off from the rest of Exodar.

Corin dropped to one knee, and peered ahead.

"Five of them. If they're as strong as the one that jumped us just now, It might get... difficult."

"Do you wish to wait for help?"

"No. I like my fights difficult."

Mareva dropped her toolbox on the floor.

"Can I be of assistance?"

"What can you do?"

"I can make you tougher or stronger. Which would you like?"

"Tougher. I do my own strength."

"Very well. I will start calling when we are in range. Try not to move too much."

Corin laid down her weapon, and concentrated in prayer. A pure white light started to shine from her blue skin and armour.

"Ready?"

"Go." 

 

Corin ran forward, weapons and armour shining with the Holy Light. Mareva followed her at a few steps distance. With a great shout, Corin smashed into the group of blood-elves, swinging her mace round in vicious, fast arcs.

Mareva raised her arms. "Spirit of Fire, Spirit of Earth, Spirit of Air, Spirit of Water, hear my call..."

At Mareva's feet, four totems appeared. Toughening her and Corin, Healing the wounds Corin was about to receive, Granting them both more magical energy, more mana. And finally, shooting fire at their enemies. She stood in the middle of her ring of totems, hooves slightly apart, in her center of power, steady as a rock. She raised her hands, and fired. 

 

Corin turned to Mareva, a wild grin on her face, She raised her shield and mace in the air, and yelled.

"Enemies! I hope you enjoy your death as much as I enjoyed killing you!"

Mareva stepped forward, and her totems disappeared.

"You are _enjoying_ yourself?"

"It is fitting to rejoice in the death of an enemy. Finally, I get to do the work I was trained and forged to do!"

"Hmm. Let us see if we can get in."

Mareva tapped the code on the keypad. The door stayed closed. Mareva swore. Apparently, someone had seen fit to block the door. She tapped in her engineers' override code. The door hissed open, and suddenly, Mareva and Corin choked. Mareva grabbed Corin's arm and pulled her back.

"Extinguishing gas," she gasped. "Has some zlotnik been smoking grazh on the job?"

"We can't get in," said Corin. "Now what?"

"Wait for the gas to dissipate. Just a few minutes." 

 

At that moment, the ground shook. In a macabre gesture, some of the corpses on the floor rolled over, as if they had come to life again.

"By the Light," said Mareva. "The Captain is doing things he really should not be doing with only two engines. Damn it, I need to be in the engine room."

"How far?"

"Fifty yards into the tunnel, and then I have to get the door open."

"We can hold our breath that long, can't we?"

"Let's find out."

Mareva and Corin took a few quick, deep breaths, then ran forward, at a calculated slow trot, so as not to use up all their air at once. They needn't have bothered. As they approached the door, it opened and Grofal waved them in. As soon as they were in, the door slammed behind them. 

 

Alard gave Mareva an earnest look. "I thought you were going to stay put?"

"I thought the whole population of demon botherers was banging on your door?"

"Young Grofal suggested we treat them to some Haal'oun gas. It worked beautifully."

"Well, they had twenty seconds to leave the room. Say, where's Inuuri?"

Alard put his hand on Mareva's shoulder.

"She... was in the number four controller room when the power conduit ruptured." Alard looked into Mareva's eyes. "She's dead."

Mareva closed her eyes, tried to swallow away the lump in her throat, but couldn't. She bowed her head, forced herself to breathe.

"May her soul be part of the Light Everlasting."

Corin put her hand on Mareva's shoulder.

"I am sorry for your loss. Still, we have already started to take our revenge. I could feel that your spells were most effective. I did not know that mages could do that!"

Mareva drew her sleeve across her face.

"I'm not a mage. I am an elemental Shaman."

Corin dropped her hand. An astounding change came over her face, hard, furious.

"You cast _Orc spells_ on me? How _dare_ you! If I hadn't sworn to protect all Draenei, I'd kill you!"

Mareva looked up, slowly. "I use no spells. I call upon the favour of the Elemental Spirits. Beings that have been in existence since time began. Before the Eredar walked the lands of Argos, before the Light Everlasting shone upon them, before the Orcs walked the lands of what they call simply 'World', before Life itself existed, these spirits were. They are _not_ of the making of Orc, Tauren, Troll or Draenei. It is we, who are their creations." Mareva bent forward, and looked hard into Corin's eyes. "And they just saved your sorry tail from being stamped on by those Blood-elf kor'kluk."

"O'ros. We are on our final approach to Azuremyst Isle. Projected time of arrival twenty-five minutes. Chief Engineer, I hereby grant you Omega clearance. Turn up the engines to their maximum power on my signal. Prophet Velen, I suggest you launch the escape pods." O'ros paused a moment. "May the Light protect you, and yours."

"Velen. Pods have started to launch." 

Mareva blinked. "Chief? What is Omega clearance?"

"That," said Alard, turning round to the console, "means I am the god of engines. All the safety features are off. Whatever I tell them to do, they do, without first asking whether I've lost my mind. Oh, the excitement."

Grofal whistled. "I know of only three chief engineers who've gotten that. Just from hearing the story, mind." His voice sounded even. "They are all dead."

"Bunch of amateurs," said Alard. "I suggest you all find something solid to hang on to." 

* * *

They almost made it. In the end, it was the Sin'dorei that got them. Exodar, part of the transdimensional fortress of Tempest Keep, came hurtling from the sky, engines blazing in a final attempt to keep the trajectory straight. Then, at five minutes from landing, a massive explosion rocked the ship, and it listed sharply to one side.

Captain Baqiir's voice sounded as calm as ever.

"Trans-dimensional jump when ready, please."

Grofal shouted. "The whole bloody vector coil is blown off! TD engines out! Repeat. TD engines out!"

"Oh dear," said the Captain.

Alard's eyes bored into the readouts, his hands tapped the controls, getting the last bit of power out of the mass reaction engines. Indicators showed that they should have exploded minutes ago, but still, they held. Mareva, Grofal and Corin were holding on for dear life. The floor was shaking. The coffee machine parted ways with the counter and came sailing through the engine room, where it smashed into the wall, spraying hot water.

O'ros' voice came through the speakers.

"Impact in five... four... three... two... one. Light preserve us all." 

 

Nobody on the bridge survived. Their bodies could not even be found, let alone recovered. Captain Baqiir, Helmsman Unaar, the communication officers. They all stayed at their posts until the very last. Yeoman Lorelei was also on the bridge when it buried itself into the small mountains on the west side of Azuremyst Isle. The habitation tier was completely destroyed. There were no survivors among those who had chosen to finish the trip on board, and had stayed in their quarters. They died mercifully quickly.

The vector coil had been blown out by high explosives, and no doubt the Sin'dorei had intended it to explode, vaporising Exodar and a good part of Azuremyst Isle. That it didn't, was the sole achievement of Engineer Grofal, who had engaged the emergency dousing mechanism that extinguished the reactor.

Mareva thought she was dead. She could not see. She could hear nothing, but perhaps the noise had deafened her. Her whole body felt pleasantly numb, warm, as if she were in bed with Viral. She was still thinking, so she must be alive. No matter. It wouldn't last long. She tried to think of Viral only, so she could die happy, here in her coccoon of air, alone with her thoughts. She lay still for a very long time, until an awful noise blasted her ears. Someone was banging on metal close to her head. Then, suddenly, there was light, and with it came air, and pain.

Mareva screamed, and passed out. 

* * *

Copyright: © 2008,2009,2010 Menno Willemse. All rights reserved.


	10. Part 10: Journey. - THE STRANGE LAST DAYS OF THE GOOD SHIP EXODAR

# THE STRANGE LAST DAYS OF THE GOOD SHIP EXODAR

## Part 10: Journey.

* * *

Prophet Velen slowly opened his eyes, and took stock of his body. He was lying in a corner of his work area in the Hall of Crystals. His ribs were hurting. Probably cracked a few. He tried to move, and grunted. His leg was not cooperating,

"Creatures of Light, grant me your blessing."

The Light flowed through him, mending his broken bones, healing his body. He took a deep breath, then got to his hooves. All round him, his lieutenants were slowly starting to move, and to cast their healing spells on themselves. The noise had stopped, so Velen assumed that they had arrived. No reason why it couldn't start again, of course, but let's deal with that when it arrives. One of his lieutenants was kneeling by the body of his comrade. He looked over his shoulder at the Prophet, sadly shook his head and laid his hand on the man's eyes. Velen walked over to his console, trying to tap it into life. To his surprise, it worked. It didn't have anything cheerful to report, though. The ship was a mess. All engines off-line, no connection to the bridge, the technical tier or the habitation tier. He closed his eyes a moment, and turned on the external monitor.

Exodar was lying on the shore of Azuremyst Isle, half buried in the only hard rock on the whole island. The bridge, habitation and technical tiers were gone. So was the cryo-core, with its escape pods. Thank the Light they had all been launched before they came down. At this speed, of course, survival was not a given. They'd have to see. Velen turned the view to the rest of the islands. Here and there, he could see fires, but they were small and had already started to go out. 

"Oh no..."

Wherever he looked, energy crystals littered the area. Some of them were large as houses. They had stored the energy needed to propel Exodar through the Twisting nether. Now, that energy was leaking out. Into the soil. Into the drinking water. Into the seas. If he looked closely, he could see dying animals near the crystals. Strange tree-like creatures beating their fists against the invaders. Deer running away as fast as they could. Velen closed his eyes and bowed his head.

"Oh merciful Light, what have we done?" 

* * *

"Morning Chief. I brought you some food." Mareva smiled sweetly at Engineer Alard, who was lying on one of the make-shift beds in sick bay.

"Oh sure," said Grofal, who was in the bed next to him. " _He_ gets the fruit basket. What do I get?"

"I got you the same, but you have to wait. Rank has its privileges."

"Yeah, yeah. Suck up to Management. I think you're after my job."

"I hate to tell you this, but it may be a while before Exodar flies again. We'd need to order in a new technical tier, to start with."

"So we no longer have a ship," said Alard. "But I think we have set the definitive record in building cities. Pre-fabricated elsewhere and flown in for your convenience."

Grofal grabbed a bag of sweet Emarree, pulled the tab and started spooning up the goo. "Have we heard from any of the pod people yet?"

"Most of them came down more or less as designed. A few were sabotaged and blew up as soon as they cleared the bay," said Mareva. "Sin'dorei bastards. Some of them came down in the sea, and we're rounding them up with boats and pulling them to shore."

"Viral?"

Mareva closed her eyes and sighed. "He made it. He came down on the other island. I'll be joining him there in a few days. He was in the same pod as Gur'dan and Oraya. They are going to come back here."

Alard nodded. "Well, it's been a noisy arrival, but I'd say we have landed. Any landing you can walk away from is a good one. I assume we are invited to the wedding?"

"No. I try to keep business and pleasure strictly separate. Of course you are, you zlotniks. You will be the guests of honour. The engineer who made us not end in a cloud of vapour, and the only Chief Engineer who ever obtained Omega clearance and lived." 

* * *

Mareva was busy. She was wearing goggles, and in front of her, on her table, was a small gas burner. With her pliers, she held the slender wires of Thorium in the flame, to make them pliable. Then, she plaited the strands into a loop for her finger. Viral's ring was done already, except for the jewels. She had asked him for a cast of his ring finger, and he'd sent it to her, demanding to know what she was going to do with it. Just for fitting the ring, my husband to be.

She turned up the heat on the burner, and melted the ends of wire. She was quite pleased with the design. Plaited wires of Thorium, with each gap filled with a small sapphire. She looked up at the wall, where she had stuck up his letter.  
   


>   
> Engineer Mareva,  
>    
> Please find enclosed my finger. Not my actual finger, as I'll  
> need that for other things. Work here is progressing steadily.  
> The egg-heads are getting more and more worried about the  
> engine parts poor old Exodar has been spilling all over the  
> place. They seem to be having some sort of effect on the  
> wildlife here. They never seem to have enough strange bent  
> pieces of metal for their measuring equipment, so if I wanted  
> to, I could spend all my days here. I don't. Missing you  
> terribly. Nights on this planet are cold. I get by remembering  
> that thing you did at our official sampling. I will never  
> regret the thing I did, as long as I'll live.  
>    
> Eternally, and I hope in the near future legally yours,  
>    
> Viral.  
>    
> PS: I have a vivid imagination. What do you need that finger  
> for?

 

With infinite patience, Mareva fit the little wires together, then watched the ends melt and join. She held the ring under her magnifying glass, and smiled. Ends neatly stuck together. Just a little grinding to do, and it'd be ready for the jewels. As the ring cooled down, Mareva fought the temptation to try it on. She knew it'd fit, and it was terribly bad luck to wear a wedding ring before the ceremony. But she wanted to see it on her finger. Even more so, she wanted to see Viral put it on her finger. She sighed.

The door chime rang. Mareva put down her tools, pushed up her goggles and went to the door. She grinned.

"Oraya! Gur'dan! Hut!"

Mareva wrapped her arms round Oraya and pinched her bottom. This would normally earn her a poke and a nasty look, but this time, nothing happened. She looked at Oraya. Her face was serious, sad.

"Can we come in?"

"Of course," said Mareva. "What's up?"

Oraya hit the button and Mareva's bed rolled out.

"Sit down," she said. 

* * *

She had pushed Oraya and Gur'dan out of the door. She wanted to be alone. Her tears had stopped flowing, and she didn't speak, so nobody could notice how hoarse her voice was. She walked to her table, and picked up her ring. She put it on. Watched the silvery bands round her finger. She turned her hand round and round, looking at it. Then, she turned up the burner under the melting pot as high as it would go. In went Viral's ring. She looked at her hand one last time, took off the ring and dropped it in the pot. With dry eyes, she watched the beautiful metal objects melt, run together, until there was only a small puddle in the bottom of the pot. There was just enough to make one solid ring, for herself. Smaller than Viral's, nowhere near as beautiful, but much more useful. She carefully poured the molten Thorium into the mould. The red gem was already waiting to be slotted in. More strength for her weapon arm.

Gur'dan had told the story. Simple enough, really. Blood-elves had descended on Viral's research station like a pack of wolves, surrounded the camp, killed everyone inside. The Vindicators had run to the camp, but they had been too late to do anything but disturb their looting. Three of the freaks had been killed, the rest had fled.

Mareva tapped her hammer on the mould, and opened it. In the middle lay her new ring. Made from the Thorium of her and Viral's wedding rings. Enchanted with death. She picked up her pliers and pulled the ring out. Quickly, before the metal could cool down too much, she slotted in the gem. She didn't bother filing off the rough edges. Let it grate on her skin. She put it on her left hand, where her wedding ring would have been. Where it now was.

Mareva could not remember having been this angry before. She would admit that she'd blown up at people now and then, but those things were like rockets. Flared up brightly, then disappeared, leaving nothing but memories. This anger was different. Slow-burning, infinitely hotter, all-consuming.

"One more call to make," she said, "And then, Blood-elves are going to die." 

* * *

"Can teach you no more. Your spirit is not at rest. Even if could, would not. You would be learning for the wrong reason. That is worse than not learning. Anyway, you strong enough already, for killing Sin'dorei."

"I will find out," said Mareva, "and tell you. I am going to Bloodmyst Isle."

"Most likely, the ones who killed Viral already dead."

"The thing about vermin is that you have to keep at it, or they breed and multiply."

Farseer Nobundo's expression, as he looked into her eyes, was impossible to read.

"You do that. Then, when you have learnt, come back and we will continue." 

* * *

Mareva ran. She'd asked for directions to the Vindicator's Rest on Bloodmyst Isle. Now and then, creatures had attacked her. Cats, strange walking tree-things. Stags. It had given her the opportunity to get familiar with the mace she'd taken from Viral's locker. It lay comfortably in her hand. It was heavy, and the spikes on its head were almost elegant. Viral was... had been, a good blacksmith. Half-way up a small hill, she could see the Rest. Vindicators paced to and fro, on guard. They took one look at her and let her through.

"Engineer Mareva. What a surprise."

"Vindicator Corin. Dyonis A'ka. I wish to kill many Blood-elves. Do you have any going spare?"

Corin gave a small bark of a laugh.

"They are crawling like ants over what's left of the Cryo-core, just ahead. Apparently, they need medication as much as we do." She looked into Mareva's eyes. "Perhaps you can see to it that they no longer do, and bring back the medical kits?"

Mareva simply nodded.

"I heard of your loss," she said. "My condolences."

"Gazpaar was on one of the pods that exploded," said Vindicator Corin. "I asked for this assignment, for much the same reason you are here. I have orders to remain here, on guard. Make them regret what they did. Make them suffer. Make them die." 

 

"Spirits, hear my call..."

Two of the Sin'dorei had spotted Mareva, and came running towards her, swords out. One male, one female. Standing between her totems, elemental magic crackling on her skin, she watched them. No running out for her. Let them come. Her flame totem burst into fire, and the Elves screamed, burning. The female tried to run, the male attacked. Mareva deflected its sword with her shield and swung her mace. The Elf parried her stroke, counter-thrust. It scored a hit on Mareva's arm, and she almost welcomed the pain. Lightning cracked, and Mareva's shield spell bit back at the Elf. She swung her mace round, and down. With a satisfying crunch, it bit into the Elf's leg. The Elf collapsed with a cry. Mareva's hoof stomped on its chest, and her mace came down on the Elf's head, once, twice. She didn't even wait for the body to stop twitching.

The female Blood-elf had managed to put out the flames on its clothes. It watched Mareva bearing down on her, sword raised in two hands. As Mareva drew near, the sword came slashing down. Mareva raised her shield. The impact jarred her arm, but she paid no attention. She went for the Blood-elf's legs, and the filth was too late to parry her stroke. It fell to one knee, sword raised above its hornless head. Mareva took one step back, swung her mace and hit the Elf's fingers. The Elf screamed, and dropped the sword, cradling one hand in the other, looking up at Mareva. Mareva kicked it in the chest, making the Elf fall over backwards. She knelt onto the creature's chest, looked into the alien green eyes. Even creatures from across the void show fear in their eyes. Good.

"You would not happen to know where the medical supplies are, would you?"

She raised her mace, called upon the Spirit of Fire to set it aflame. She looked down on the Elf, whose chest was rising and falling quickly under her knee. She pressed down harder, then brought down her mace, hard, on the Elf's face, again and again, until it didn't have a head anymore.

"Never mind. I will find them myself."

She tore open the Elf's clothes, snorted and pulled out a slender package of bandages. Well, what do you know? She put the bandages in her pack, and walked off to look for more. She hadn't got farther than fifty yards or so, when a noise made her look back. Another one of those Blood-elves was kneeling by the corpse, holding the limp arm in its hand, looking at the bracelet the female was wearing. The Elf looked up, saw Mareva. Mareva looked back, mace raised, turning it round in her hand, showing the red blood that was still on it. She tilted her head slightly.

The Blood-elf roared, and charged at Mareva, slashing low with a two-handed sword. Mareva leaped high in the air, over the sword. The Elf's back was exposed, and she brought her mace down hard. The Blood-elf fell, and lay with its face in the dirt, struggling feebly to get up. Mareva kicked away the sword, turned the body over, ignoring the gasps of pain. She found another package of band-aids.

"You will not need that where you are going."

She stood up, took a few steps back, aimed her hands at the Elf, and shot lightning bolts at it till it died. Three medikits. Not too bad. Three dead Blood-elves. Even better. She looked up. The Cryo-core lay a few hundred yards to the North. More bandages. More red blood.

Good. 

 

She walked into Vindicator's Rest. Her armour was spattered with blood, both red and blue-green. Mareva upended her backpack. A stack of medical kits came rolling out.

"About two dozen," said Mareva. "I had to destroy maybe three dozen. They weren't all carrying our band-aids."

Vindicator Corin gave her a lop-sided smile. "Not bad. Not bad at all. That'll teach them."

"They are dead," said Mareva. "Teaching them is a waste of time. I am going back to Exodar. I may be back."

"Very well. Favour the road travelled by few."

Mareva nodded, waved and trotted off, following the road to the South. Anger still growled within her. Not a thousand dead Sin'dorei would ever make it go away. Her mace swung at her belt, the fire magic on it not quite spent yet. She thought about her fighting style. As a would-be Mage, and later as a Shaman, she shot enemies from far away. Today's work had been up close and personal. She'd wanted to look at them up close. Smell their fear. Taste their blood.

Far away in the back of her mind, a little voice asked if she'd ever be satisfied. None of this would bring back her beloved Viral. Not the point. The Elves she'd killed would not hurt anyone anymore. As long as they existed, they were a danger to her, and her friends. Get rid of them. All of them? Yes. As many as she could, before she herself was slain. Thirty to one was a start. A hundred to one would be better, but we'll see.

As she ran slong the road, there was a noise to her right, behind a few shrubs. In a heartbeat, Mareva's mace and shield were in her hand, and she faced the attacker, knees bent, weight balanced between her hooves. Her eyes narrowed as she peered ahead. Slowly, carefully, ready to react to anything that might jump her, she skirted round. She could hear... what? It was a sad sound, soft howling. Mace raised in the air, she stepped forward. On the ground lay a big ball of fur, slowly moving. As Mareva approached, the creature stirred, sniffed the air, turned towards her. It looked vaguely bear-like, but it wasn't a bear. Between its claws, it clutched a glowing piece of crystal, maybe twice the size of Mareva's fist. She recognised it as a piece of Exodar's energy crystals. Pure poison to anything living. The creature was pressing it to its chest like a doll or a child.

"Don't do that, little one," said Mareva. "It's bad for you."

The furry creature's ears twitched, and it looked towards Mareva, or at least tried. It was blind. Its eyes were a milky white.

"Oh you poor thing. Give me that!"

Mareva tried to pull the crystal out of the creature's paws, but it suddenly growled at her, and pulled back. Mareva stared. Then, she pulled an Emarree out of her pack, pulled the tab and cut it open so that the creature could eat it. She held the food under its nose. It yowled, and turned its face away.

"My compliments on your taste. In food, that is, not in toys. A bit of water, perhaps?"

She got out her water bottle, and carefully poured a bit onto her hand, held it in front of the creature's face. It lapped up the water greedily. Mareva poured more water into its mouth from her bottle. Clutching its power crystal to its chest with one hand, it grabbed the bottle with the other and tipped it up, drinking fast, spilling water onto its fur. It threw away the empty bottle. It curled up again, making small whimpering noises. Then, suddenly, it got up on all fours, and retched. A burst of vomit spouted fom its mouth. Mareva could think of nothing else to do but stroke its fur with her hand. As she did, great swathes of hair came loose.

"You are so sick," said Mareva, "Did we do this to you? I'm so, so sorry."

The creature's ears twitched at her voice, and it rolled onto its back. Its fur was soiled with the Light only knew what, and it stank. Mareva thought of putting the poor thing out of its misery, but could she? Would it get better with perhaps a few healing spells? Or would that just prolong its agony? She sat down close to its head, and ran her fingers through its filthy hair. The creature laid down its head, with an undefinable sense of finality. Its flanks rose and fell, laboured. Then, they stopped. Mareva sighed. She reached between its paws, and picked up the power crystal. For a moment, she considered throwing it away, but some other creature would pick it up. She put it in her pack instead. The people at Azure Watch would know what to do with it.

"This is also the fault of the strivs who made us crash," said Mareva, but her liver wasn't really in it. This was precisely the sort of thing that spacers were trained to avoid. True, determined sabotage was not in the standard operating procedures, but still. Gently, she put a hand on the shaggy head.

"Forgive me." 

* * *

"You go back there tomorrow, no? Clear up bit more trash?"

Mareva shook her head at Nobundo.

"I don't think so. I have better things to do with my time than pest control. I have spoken with a few of the scientists. Two of them knew Viral. They are assembling a team of people to gather information on the effect we are having on this planet. They'll want scientific information about all the places where our engine parts landed. They have a theory that some of the corruption is _not_ our fault."

"Hmm. Today, I walked to the sea shore, and stood in the water. Water spirits here are not pleased with us. But they are also not pleased with other, greater evil. Almost got Spirit of Water to tell me who." Nobundo scowled.

"Oh? Then what happened?"

"Some Dwarf zlotnik ask me what by name of Titans I am doing." Noundo made some rumbling noises in his throat. "Tell him am minding my own business and trying to concentrate. By time I get trance back, Spirit gone. Will return tomorrow."

"Dwarf? What is a Dwarf doing in this part of the world? They live on the other continent."

"Disturbing my meditation, that is what."

"No respect for the Spirits."

"Pah. They think spirits is yeast, hops and barley. Zlotniks. Ah well. Managed to explain what would happen if he disturb me again tomorrow."

Nobundo laid his hand on Mareva's shoulder.

"You finished with revenge, no?"

"Blood-elves are still stealing our oxygen, breathing," said Mareva. "But it is more important to find out about the effect our... accident has had on the environment here. The scientists are sending out lots of people. Oraya and Gur'dan have also volunteered. I have a meeting tonight." 

 

They were meeting in the old Deviants' club house. Someone had thoughtfully removed the score board, though Mareva could still see one of the stories left stuck up on the wall. She remembered reading it with Viral. Very inspiring. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and slowly let it escape.

"...cannot stress this enough. Do _not_ try any of the local food. We have not yet ascertained its effect on our metabolism, and it'll almost certainly give you stomach upsets or worse. I _know_ that Emarree are sticking in everybody's throats, but they are the only known safe thing to eat on this planet."

One of the men raised his hand. Mareva recognised him as one of the former Deviants. She searched her memory. Ah. Two and two.

"Are we allowed to examine what the local population is like in bed? Some of the Night-elves look tasty! It would provide valuable data."

Mareva watched the speaker's face turn pale and had to bite her knuckle not to burst out laughing.

"Have you gone completely mad? No! The last thing we need is to catch any of their diseases, or to give them any of ours."

"Oh. Thank you for clearing that up. I will tell her, no more."

"I wish that damn Wildoor had started a sewing club instead. No bloody sampling the local wildlife, sentient or otherwise."

Mareva snorted. She grinned at her fellow Deviant. The speaker brought his thoughts back to the matter at hand, and continued.

"Right. Assignments. Starting with a difficult one, because it'll involve travelling to the other continent. It's a control, because we're fairly certain that we didn't drop anything there. A very interesting place called Searing Gorge. Arid, possibly due to past magical contamination. Signs of industry. We want soil and water samples. Anyone fancy it?"

Mareva raised her hand.

"I'll do it. Give me a chance to stretch my legs."

"Excellent. Here's the necessary maps and directions. Good luck. Next, Kalimdor. Place called Tanaris..." 

 

Mareva wandered through the Traders' Tier, down to the central hall. Someone else was in Viral's place of trade, selling things never mind. She'd read her instructions for getting into Searing Gorge. Two trips on the boat, long trips on foot once she hit a place called Menethil. People to meet everywhere. Whole continents to explore. She walked into the Engineers' tavern, and looked round. She pushed up to the bar.

"Double Qrovna, please."

The bartender grunted, poured her drink and pushed it across the bar. Mareva paid, picked up her drink. As she turned round, she noticed, with some surprise, a familiar face next to her.

"I thought this was a stokers' tavern," she said. "I didn't know people from behind the mast were allowed in here, Helmsman Debaar."

Debaar slowly looked round to her.

"I am no longer 'Helmsman Debaar'." She looked back at her pint of ale.

"Why not?"

"Not that it's any of your business,.. well actually, it is. Do you remember when we got the final Deviants' scores?"

"Vividly."

"I think I told you I made a gamble, right?"

Mareva sipped her drink, then remembered what she was drinking. Ugh.

"Yes."

"Well," said Debaar, "A few hours before close of score, I volunteered for bridge duty on landing, just like everybody else. Baqiir told me the bridge officers had already been chosen, and that I wasn't among them."

"Yes? Well, you are alive today because of that. So it can't be all bad."

"Probably not. But I really, _really_ wanted to be on the bridge for landfall. So I told him if he would reconsider, I'd do anything he wanted."

Debaar's eyes slowly turned to Mareva's.

"Anything."

Mareva raised her eyebrows, and slowly breathed in.

"You tried to seduce the captain into letting you onto the bridge? Oh my..."

"I was already tired of this shithole. I was helmsman, but to tell you the truth, I've touched the main helm maybe twice on this whole Light-bereft trip. So if Captain went for it, I'd have my day on the bridge, a nice couple of hours' fun, and twenty style points. Would have beaten you by eighteen."

Mareva looked at Debaar, playing with her cup on the bar.

"But you did not."

"No."

"Sounds like a long shot," said Mareva. "Captain Baqiir, may he be part of the Light, was very much married to Lady Foori."

"I know. But it beats having to hand in a letter of resignation."

"So. What are you going to do now?"

"Finish my drink, and get my sorry tail out of this place. Kalimdor. Eastern Kingdoms. Maybe run away with a circus. Tame something big and nasty and hunt with it. Anything but play at being an officer."

Debaar picked up her drink and poured the contents down her throat in one long draught. She put the mug back on the bar, and turned round. She took one step, then looked over her shoulder at Mareva.

"Sod it, I want to know."

"What?"

"Would you have held out another round? At our sampling?"

Mareva grinned. "I would have held out, or died in the attempt."

Debaar laughed. "We must have a re-sampling sometime. To the death."

She shook her head, and without another word walked out of the Belltower and Rifle.

Mareva watched her tail disappear out of the door, then spotted Grofal sitting alone at a table, pouring himself another drink out of a bottle. Marva walked over and without asking sat down opposite him.

"That much Qrovna is very bad for you," she said.

"Yeah. Wanna help me?"

Mareva tossed back her drink and put her cup on the table.

"Sure."

Grofal looked at Mareva.

"She's still in that bloody controller room. Can't get her out. Door's closed, and if you blast through it, you'll flood the whole ship."

"Yes."

"If I'd hold her in my arms, _I_ would die of the radiation. She was so beautiful, and now she's radio-active waste."

Mareva was silent. She looked into Grofal's eyes. A small, mirthless smile was on his face.

"And yes, I would have loved to hold her in my arms." He tossed back another drink. "And I never told her. Am I a sad zlotnik, or what?"

"You never asked her?"

Grofal shook his head. "She wasn't the least bit interested in me. She liked big strong military types like that Lieutenant, not little geeks whose most powerful feature is cynicism. So I'd save us both the embarrassment."

"She said you were handsome, once."

"Hah. So I would have had a chance, after all." He sighed. "More knowledge is always good. Not always pleasant, mind, but good."

"I'm sorry."

Grofal saw Mareva's cup was empty, and poured more Qrovna into it. He looked up into her eyes, and smiled at her.

"Don't be."

Mareva bent over her cup, watching the vile purple liquor. She looked up.

"Before you make the same mistake twice, and I am too stupid to catch it. Have you any such feelings for me?"

Grofal looked at Mareva with his mouth hanging open. Then, he held up his cup to her.

"Engineer Mareva, if ever I had to choose between two ships to serve on, and you were on one of them, then I would choose that ship, regardless of whether it was the best of the two. I would love to work with you. Even more than I'd want to sleep with you. You are the most sexy colleague I have ever had," Grofal tossed down another cup, and shook his head. "But you are not her."

"That would be academical," said Mareva. "I would be on the best ship."

"Excuse me? Do you mind if I join you?"

Grofal raised his cup, and pulled back a chair.

"Lieutenant! Join us! Save us from alcohol poisoning."

Mareva got up, walked to the bar on wobbly legs, and got a cup for the Lieutenant. Grofal poured them all drinks.

"Nazdrovye!"

They drank. Lieutenant Giraz coughed, thumped his chest.

"By the Naaru! What is that stuff?"

"Qrovna. Nectar of the gods," said Mareva. "Not particularly _nice_ gods, though."

"They demand the sacrifice of virgins," said Grofal. "I think I'd better make myself scarce."

Grofal got to his feet, with some difficulty. Lieutenant Giraz put a hand on Grofal's arm.

"Wait. You two, you were Inuuri's best friends. One of you should know." The Lieutenant looked at each of them. "How did she die? Did she suffer? I am truly sorry if this is painful for you, but I _must_ know."

Grofal gave Mareva a look. Then, he turned an unsteady gaze to the Lieutenant.

"She got hit by the second explosion. Cut off in mid-sentence. Probably never knew what hit her."

Giraz looked into Grofal's eyes.

"Thank you," he said.

"Thank me? For what?" Grofal turned round, and with swaying steps left the tavern.

Giraz looked down on the table.

"For lying to me," he whispered.

Mareva looked at her cup, still full, in her hands. Then, she looked up at Giraz.

"Would you like to forget the world for an hour or so? Pretend that everything is alright?" She put down her cup. "I could do that for you. Could you do it for me?" 

* * *

It was no use. He had his hands in all the wrong places. He was nice enough to look at, and they would probably have done well out of each other in points, but she didn't want the expert techniques, the incredible stamina or the dedication to business. She wanted the warmth. She wanted him to know where exactly the softest bits of her skin were. She wanted him to be... someone else. He bent over her, looking at her face.

"It isn't working, is it?"

"No."

"I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I have applied the wrong tool to the job."

They ended up lying next to each other, naked, hands behind their heads, not speaking. It wasn't what they'd planned, but still, it was strangely comforting.

"I wonder," said Mareva, "I wonder what they would say if they could see us now."

Giraz laughed. "Get on with it, you zlotniks. That's what Inuuri would have said."

Mareva smiled, and said nothing.

"I should probably go," said Giraz.

"Stay the night," said Mareva. "You can sleep here as well as you can in your own cabin."

"You are right," said Giraz. 

* * *

Mareva walked up the path to the new exit, or the place where the cryo-core used to be before it broke off. She tried not to look at the few remains of the technical tier. She still could only half believe that they'd pulled her, Vindicator Corin, Alard and Grofal out of there with nothing more than a few cuts and bruises. It was going to be a long, slow trip. Prophet Velen had expressly forbidden introducing their technology into this new land, so it was going to be walking all the way till she could get a riding elekk or another mount. But at least, there were ships. Sailing ships, even! They didn't need poisonous energy crystals. Just a breeze, and off they went. So what if they couldn't go against the wind? Mareva looked round her. She'd come to the ragged edges of Exodar. Some of the cables were hanging loose, sparks still flying from them. Mareva sighed. So now the Draenei had arrived in Azeroth. On a whim, she walked to one of the walls of the corridor, and put her hand on it. Very softly, she sang.  
   


>   
> Carry  
> Carry me  
> Carry me safe  
> Carry me safe to land
> 
>    
> Set  
> Set me  
> Set me down
> 
>    
> Where there is air, and water, and ground  
> Fire, and the fruits of the sea and the sand  
> Carry me safe to land.  
> 

 

Oraya had asked her about this song. She'd tried to explain. You can survive without air for a few seconds. Without water for a few days, if you push yourself. You could swim for weeks, and go without food for a month, if you drank. So, Oraya had asked, why wasn't love in the song? Well, you can survive without love for a lifetime. If you never knew it, you'd never miss it. If you did, you could still survive. You might not want to, but you could.

Mareva took a deep breath, pulled her sleeve across her face and stepped out into the fresh air. She pulled at the straps of her backpack, and set off for the ferry. 

* * *

Mareva pulled her scarf up over her face, to keep out the dust of Searing Gorge. The place was as nasty as they had told her. How did the stupid bastards expect her to find water samples _here_? If she found any, she'd probably drink them. She turned to the Dwarf flight master.

"Does anything grow here?" she asked, in Common. The words did not yet come as easily as those in her native tongue, but she was learning.

"Nothin' but demons and ogres," said the Dwarf. "If it weren't fer the Fel Iron, nobody'd be here. Thorium we can also get in nicer places."

"We are not interested in the nice places," said Mareva. "We want the nasty, diseased, corrupted places, and cleanse them."

"Cleanse this place? Hah! Yer off yer rocker, lass! Ye'd need to drop a whole ocean on this place to cleanse it."

"If we have to," said Mareva, "Then that is what we will do. May your days be long, and your hardships few."

She took a deep breath, and ran down the path. 

* * *

Copyright: © 2008,2009,2010 Menno Willemse. All rights reserved.


End file.
